| The ashen grey muse commissions a new verse
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| A song to while away the long sojourn in the hearse
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| Yet all of us who danse macabre to these dour, dismal tunes
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| Become cold, grim and hard as the dirt upon the tomb…
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| In darkened dirges death’s knell peals out it’s toll
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| As another cadaver is consigned six feet down to its hole
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| But ere the last shovel of dirt falls on the wall of the box
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| We gravely offer a salute to those about to rot…
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| So lift up your severed heads, in a song for the dead
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| Life’s course ever runs red, so let no lyric remain unsaid
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| As from our mouths the melody is bled, in a symphony scripted in red
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| Like rats by the piper we’re led, to join in this song for the dead…
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| The humor of the gallons never fails to ring true
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| In this dead, bleak, sick world that we’re hung, drawn and quartered though
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| As each internecine instrument plays its own bloody part
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| The hammering of coffin nails outpaces the beating of our hearts…
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| Symphonic surgery orchestrated, a cleaver conducts
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| The execrable epiphany comes too late, just to reduce us to chunks
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| Rising up from the sod heaves a gross, putrid breath
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| As the chorus is joined in this song for the dead…
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| So lift up your severed heads, in a song for the dead
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| Life’s course ever runs red, so let no lyric remain unsaid
|
| As from our mouths the melody is bled, in a symphony scripted in red
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| Like rats by the piper we’re led, to join in this song for the dead…
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| Truncated toccatas deranged — raked across barbed strings and hacked
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| Eviscerated etudes for the de-brained — plucked upon heartstring stretched
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| on the rack
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| Medicinal movements decomposed — Regurgitating oratorios obscene
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| Forensic fugues and de-boned — Mutilating the melody’s method and means…
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| The crepitated coda dies in mid-refrain
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| As the sheet-music is obscured by a sanguine scarlet stain
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| Shattered stave lodged in your split-open splattered brain
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| The ruptured meter falters as the bow is fretted once again…
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| Acrid arias are screeched
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| The bloated thorax is breached
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| Abrading viscera with bleach
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| Grotesquely gavage the deceased…
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| Cleaving the clef
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| Broken notes bleed into a mess
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| Falling on ears so deaf
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| So it ever is in death…
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| Carbonized cantatas corrupt — ringing out, sewing seeds of dischord and
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| dismay
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| Suppurated sonatas erupt — Purulent pizzicatos slicing every which way
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| The truncated cadence is sundered — Bloody scraps of sheet music
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| unintellibly scrawled
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| Threnodies resonate six feet under — To where all life’s fractured melodies
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| will finally resolve…
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| The symphonic slaughter’s swells without restraint
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| As the cacophonous cadenza splits your eardrums clean in twain
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| The repugnant orchestra pit an abattoir of death and pain
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| The hatchet falls in sharp staccato until everyone is slain… |