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Keeper of The Heads
The smell is a fine one;
The death of a traitor
is always sweet
The death of a traitor
is always sweet
I feel the pulse of the cheers
echo through the city
when the mighty fall
or the wretched scum meet their end
echo through the city
when the mighty fall
or the wretched scum meet their end
Then they send the heads to me
Parboiled
Dipped in tar
Beautifully macabre
Parboiled
Dipped in tar
Beautifully macabre
And I get to work
Proudly plying my trade
For there's a colour to my craft
and a heritage I'm proud to continue
Proudly plying my trade
For there's a colour to my craft
and a heritage I'm proud to continue
Sunday 10th April 2016 8:33 am
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