| The Feast of Fools, 1308
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| As January slipped into the grip of winter
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| A leather leash tightened round the throat of fate
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| Amidst the flock, disease and dementia
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| Night was blighted more than ever before
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| With screams of lust and obscene adventure
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| And scenes of raw debauch
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| The darkness was aroused with every kiss
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| And all who fell under it’s spell
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| Were one foul step from the abyss
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| One foul step from the abyss
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| Sacred village there in All Hallows Fair
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| Feared the templars and their Queen
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| For Lilith compared to a royal nightmare
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| When she steered their tempestuous
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| Fever-dreams
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| The beast was loose and beauty party
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| To the horrors of this sonorous whore
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| A seducer, Medusa
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| A frozen Hecate cloned
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| Stealing seed, here needs were like a cancer
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| Growing stronger with each whimpering dog
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| Knelt before her, thirteen necromancers
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| Called from desert sands to this land of opportunity
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| The darkness was aroused with every kiss
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| And all who fell under its spell
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| Were one foul step from the abyss
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| One foul step from the abyss
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| Love was drugged by a copious vendor
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| A train of servants for here decadent games
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| Purring on rugs in fugs of opiate splendour
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| Vain Lilith spread her wings again
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| Stars, they gasped and comets in ovation
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| Lit the towers, their very presence declared
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| They watch with lust, despair and veneration
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| For the Goddess scatted naked there
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| The painted eye of the storm
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| Plagues of sin, played to win
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| All hearts and souls in thrall
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| To her embraced, her fatal whims
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| Desire meant to conquer all
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| Until that fateful day, 1308
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| With a force blessed by the Kings of Hate
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| Facing winter gray to disintegrate
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| Once noble halls
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| The villagers in a belligerent horde
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| Fraught daughters fanning flames
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| Rose like pillars for their militant Lord
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| Thoughts of slaughter haranguing hot veins
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| They assailed the fort beyond the woods
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| As the howling broke on the stroke of midnight
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| Many lost their sanity at what they fought
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| Amidst those walls, creed of dementia
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| Annihilated by sheer weight of the surge
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| Put to the sword, freed from their calenture
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| The great estate was given straight to the church
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| Of Lilith, no limb ranked amongst the dead
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| But that she drank the blood of many men
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| That dark night it was said |