Blind Opera

My dead lords...my dead lords
Your strange ringed fingers turn
Turned to knots of scented wood
From your arms
That held our secrets fell the fruit
My dead lords...
You hold the past
And I confess the uneasiness
Of my love for you my lords

My anger gives me strength my lords
You loved and listened to the lovers
But we have stopped listening to you...
We have stopped listening to you my lords
We've paralysed...the pain

And the wind in your bare ribs
Uttered still the tunes of lovers
In the geese veed sky
My dead lords
I confess an uneasiness in my love for you
Confusion in my passion

Were you the song of September
That charmed the fieldfares?
When your rotten skin grew hard
It fed your minion crows
My black shining brothers
My dead lords
Oh my dead lords
I confess...
My anger gives me strength my lords
I kissed your hard crusted rotten skin
My uneasiness it grows
But you my Morton lords
Live on in my anger
Like the sun