On the edge of a lagoon
Three witches ride cauldron
And they beat a thick world.
One puts the moon,
Another blood of lamb,
And another the last kisses.
Camelot fly signals
In dragons and horns
And there is a silence of animals
While the hells are announced.
Hate to the other is our luck
The blood of others is our vineyard
When they profane and kill
We will be raptors.
The counterfeits of the north
And a pimp dwarf
Abominable doctors.
Recruit tribes and courts
For management of shackles
And hearts of sabers.
And once more as a tragedy
Round the smell of broken meat
Middle-aged dungeon
Where they kept the helot
And one more time against the impulse
Of kissing and hugging people
Give in to the last resort
An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)