The Red Knife

Amid the blue sea There's a long road to the limp and the rope Here my hopeless soul and my lonely knife meets Truthsome to the soothsayer's horoscope Teary smiles the devil Take no fury to a funeral Silenced mope I gasped an air of pity Red flooded the floors This naive knife redds me off eyes As perjury mocks my lying lips I was the protagonist But very nigh I become the scene I see the melancholic censurers How poor their eulogy? How deaf the dead can be The priest said the requiem unholily My thirst unquenched from the holy water drippings Lay me in a chrisom hearse With loo shrills and cold shame I danced the dirge to a waterloo Here am I solely sleeping