So carve my heart from the depths of my chest,
Slice it into pieces fit for your maw,
Then eat it while you feel so bloody blessed
And revel in the joy of your flawed law.
If then you have more taste for true regret
You only have to stand up tall and roar;
As long as dupes prefer to just forget
The baying crowd will open every door.
But fools who know they are not merely fools
Are surely the most cursed of all the clowns.
The day will come when your disgusting tools
Will make you the laughingstock of loose crowns.
So I hold up my lacerated head
Knowing I am a man untimely bled.