[Verse 1] Dragged from the Bone Pit, my claymore seized, Fetters bite deep as monks drag me to my knees. Torch-smoke choking, the chapel doors groan, Stench of carcasses nailed high to the stone. In decayed robes stands the Abbot of Rot, By a mangy husk creaking in its spots. Hyena-mummy, teeth like rusted knives, Rictavia the Fourth, still clinging to life. [Chorus 1] So cut my throat, you leper fucks, Feed me to your goddess, that raggedy husk. You wanted my blood when I was small— So fuckin' cut my throat, I’ll welcome the fall. Into the filth, the rot of Rictavia! "He said..." [Verse 2] No, child of purple, you never were our prey, Your stinking birth was our prophesied day. Not butchered, not broken, but chosen to reign, The foulest blossom in a garden profane. Your musk is holy, your offal divine, We crown you Fifth in the carrion line. Your mother, long waiting, Fourth interim, Take her throne of filth, let the rites begin! [Bridge] A kingdom of vermin, millions who obey, Your life unending in pleasures decayed. But transfiguration always comes with a price, Birth of a goddess calls for blood sacrifice Not you, Oh Chosen, not you who must die, But the golden-haired thief who fed you with lies. [Pre-Chorus] Bring forth the prisoner, cast her to the floor! The betrayer, your sister, now take up her sword! [Chorus 2] And cut her throat, hyena plum, Fulfill your destiny, anointed one. She kept you from us, stole your rightful claim, Cut her throat and take back your glorious name! The Fifth in the line Rictavia! [Verse 3] Prudence—your secrets have poisoned our years, You knew of our mother, you knew our home was here. At Agnes’s pyre, I spat out your name, Swore no blood bound us, left you to your shame. The lepers are screaming, as Excalibur gleams, Your eyes don’t flinch, but both our tears stream. One stroke could crown me, one stroke could enthrone, And the thought of it thrills me, marrow and bone. [Pre-Chorus] I think of their faces, as I ready your blade, Mother Agnes, and Toby, my family slain. [Final Chorus] So I slash her throat, putrid mummy, You're still my sister, I ain't no fuckin' dummy. That thing ain't our mama, we got twelve back home, I slashed its throat, Prudence, sis, let's fuckin' go!!! This filth, this rotten Rictavia? Fuck No!! We're Prudence and Scuzzy, sister hyenas!!! "Rraaaaaarggghhh!"
0/500