A Hill To Die Upon
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Manden Med Leen

A Hill To Die Upon


I have mixed the wines at shinar
I have planted the olives at athens
Fire I fed to the fallen fold
And gifts I gave of gain-less gold
At knossos I sanctified my horns
Wetted with virginity
Rightly I reveled 'mongst the rotted roots
And blood I begged of the boldest brutes

Albion gave me no saintless throne
My seed was wasted upon that isle
Creeds I craved of the carnal crowd
But prayers were proffered by the pierced and proud
The new world has been my greatest pride
Where longest has been my lordly stride
Death I dreamed for the drowning dregs
And love I lost between her lifeless legs

"Ye are of (your) father the devil
And the lusts of your father ye will do. "
"From that time many of his disciples
Went back, and walked no more with him. "
Let my scythe fall upon that field
And reap what the sky would yield

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