Lyrics Theatre Of Tragedy – Hollow–Heartèd, Heart–Departèd

Filthy harlots — the Lord’s grape
With lore ornamented entreating
Hollow hearted, heart-departed
Yet thou reapest the blooming rose

I do, in the blooming flower, pleasure find
And me in the yesterday’s bind?
Innocence is reserved for the meek
Of naught is my grasp ne’er to be

Hah! — for thee even a hound holdeth the throne
Unwanted child of mother! — Plague of plagues
Father of leprous children
I wield ye to stint this brawl
Nigh is the ford — yet harken! — do not thwart
Desirest thou to do it withal
I shall cause thy body by one head too short
Sayest ye nay to my boon
Then wilt thou from bloodshed swoon

Err me not! — Must ye bethink my foolhardiness
Be vanished! — Be banished
If ye deemest me not wroth
My hand hieth to unsheathe the sword
Lest thou dost totter
Whid along! — Wherefore irk my haughtiness?

No man… No man at all
Wherefore bereave
Be it lord or beggar
The kine of the sward?
Bereaveth my dignity
Wherefore holdest thou for