The mountains at her back

The horizon gnawing at her throat

Slowing the butchers you planted

Bloom and swing the blades

Fumble with the ropes

As the twilight takes its place

Gaze at the witch boiling inside

Broken nails, grip feels frail

In sheets she'll sail

Close your eyes oh friend

I'll show you how they did you

I'll make them fail

The scorn you left her

At pleasure's door

You fucking bastard

In sheets she sails