| Cursed be our mother the Earth
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| The harlot would breed no more
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| She took the seed oh many a time
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| Perfected by her firstborn son
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| We kept her on a leash of thorns
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| Made obedient with the sternest of bonds
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| Cursed be our mother the Earth
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| Her veins have run dry
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| Her loins, now barren, ridden of life
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| Her breast has long since withered away
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| We kept her on a leash of thorns
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| Made obedient with the sternest of bonds
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| Yet ever weaker has the bloodline grown
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| And ill spent the seed
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| She kept her silence all these years
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| Until the end |