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Grieving Age - A Quadrennial Dame Pyres Hearses Shall No Yawn Thence Lyrics

They remembered

3 Butchers condemned to be an ancestral tale
3 Butchers marred, fuddled and sottish
Voyaged the wrath

3 Butchers, intonated for their treachery
With carious laughs and requital

3 Butchers, homed sarcastically
Through the slumbered veil, did I daunt your grandeur?
Your fathomless fabled kingdom? how pathetic you are

A bosom's reflection when she bowed
Her tips never sung a solicitude
Her emerald's none trespassed well
Don't you yearn for a wanton play?

The drapery won't ascend till your angels attend
A plebeian anarchic quartet feeds my aristocrat's suavity!

A limped butcher furtively wandered
Reluctantly, sat and dangled
Touching his own old grey wrinkles
Are this the paths where all children rot to corpses?
Enkindle the lamps of centuries

I know we are reciprocating
A mouth less howls, yet begot a climaxed
Spew to his ruptured entrails
Obey me, frivolous flesh!

How bleak are the gasping trees
Half dyed rumpled wisp, she gazed drowsily
And squirmy, burnt lubricated scalps
Purging their masqueraded blasphemous ignominy

Marching in-between
Into the abyss, the manacle acquiescent fountain
I'm lifeless!
Your thirstiness won't be quenched!
Though you can hear my purl
How pathetic you are! platonic whore... !

While he's frisking desperately
The ankles flesh cheer despondently, elects the axes!
I will commemorate wretchedness with thy sea's altar
Disembowel me viciously and stake
His given ephemeral squalid carnal!

Rive it! you blooded regrettable stigma

How miserable you are unwell aged ocean
Amidst his weariful shores, you wept for thee
Don't forsake me waves?

Once, we were 3 moons
Once, we were 3 butchers