Sons Of Perdition The Flagellant
If you stop this beating heart
And plant my body deep
These humours into soil seep
If you then unearth my bones
And find my flesh is sweet
Pass it ‘round for all to eat
When you all grow fatted
On what rises from my grave
Remember that I gladly gave
Disinter me from the dirt
And lay this holy clay
On the altar in the cave
Forsake not my vacant corpse
Which slumbers in the deep
And sing thee sweetly to my sleep
Visit me with offerings
And prayers that I may keep
Or at countless bedsides shall you weep
