Trot Cued the Briar Ring Massacre
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Do you know the fastest way to a girls heart?
I'll ask but once! Come out you fool! You have to the count of...
... 8... 7... 6... 5... DIE!
It's straight through her ribs
To guise the Wench in fibs
(Is this the best you got... for... me?)
Her snare would catch his heart
Fowl the Beast a man apart
Is that your worst? Is that your scare?
Is this the
(Is this the best you got... for... me?)
Despite his feint his voice would break
Of a bloody cry to keepsake
Dawn the early light
That drapes across her dress
She wore his threnody
Of a dream so contrived
Towards the spire now of clandestine the lady
My heart never felt so weary What would she have to say?
(Cowardly men cower when men fall faster than their blood)
(His quivered voice could coax for chivalry in martyrdom)
Severely overwhelming
Dripping numbers bleed the odds
Exposing inner portraits
Grotesque upon the gallop
Awe! Oh! Awe!... Oh the Awful!
It's straight through her ribs
To guise the Wench in fibs
(Is this the best you got... for... me?)
Her snare would catch his heart
Fowl the Beast a man apart
Is that your worst? Is that your scare?
Is this the
(Is this the best you got... for... me?)
Despite his feint his voice would break
Of a bloody cry to keepsake
Cursed be you... The General of tragedy
Cursed be
The General
Cursed be you... The General of tragedy
This is my final fervor
Raging at the least
Startled by a knock
She's quickened by the handle
What are you doing here?
Never mind all the questions
No smiles on today
So company these vials
Alleviate his torture
And prepare for the vile
(Silence served him well but the mockery would swell)
(Lurking from the palace walls rumbles of his devious glum)
You stagger and you stumble
Your mannerism's crude!
Don't shame from nature stranger
Shame from what you've done!