Wanderers a wandering
She cut off her hair
a beauty still pondering
“Who I dare to love me fair? but they love me nair, and I care, I care”
Is all her years, her youth wasted
for all the kisses she could’ve tasted
none are as bittersweet, as the love she can never have
Her worth is always half empty
the glass is smashed, against her carcass
the broken shard, to her wrist
You’ll find broken open bodies
scorched by the empty words
persona, persona, worship her like the holy Madonna
But you have killed her!
White garments adorn her loveless flesh
A beauty to be fed unto saints sufferings
the sacrament was never christ’s body!
Where art love, her love!
Lord grant her a love, give her a love
A beauty wandering, pondering, dying!
These mind takes a cancer of all its own
It is time for the pyre
They build her stake higher
They burn fires
Bound her to the stake
a heart so fit to break
within monsters are to awake
burn her alive or drown her in a lake!
She is silver chained, you possess the spark
she is the sacrifice
The god of fire commands it
The loveless beauty, of wine and bread
will dine in ashes this night
Biblical lilith for his lapping tongues
You light her! She screams!
Arch for my lover doth **** me!
My beauty is scorched, tis ashes!
My eyes now blackened, no more blues
No more beauty for my dearest has tied me to the wickerman
He hath taken the torch to my flesh
He watches on as the flames have my body
The body, the love never good enough for him
Is for the flames, for I am his Joan