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My Dying Bride — Make Yourself All Honey And The Flies Will Devour You

Love is a game where both players cheat
Gone is the tale of Hero and Leander
Women are angels yet wedlock’s the devil
To have and to hold but death no longer parts
Harlots and sluts, whores of our world
Expose their stinking vaginas’
Many who have no will of their own
Hold their souls towards the sinister bloom
Are you rich oh lord of vanity
As you peddle your wears of cruelty
Dressed up so you look the part
So blind, it’s ignorance you wear

Quite brutal beyond belief
Sores that weep their septic tears
Dragged out through war torn lifetimes
And death shall feast on us all
The mills of God grind slowly
The adorable light of that which is most divine

The fascination of her shape
With mansions of awe and splendour
Elegant in simplicity
So at last your faith rewards you
Through fields enriched with pastel shade
And fragrant lavenders soft to smell
You laugh and drink wine of no great age
Nature does scent the farthest shores
Face to face your angelic host
All hopes in you imperishably kept
Is God your wish and all your dreams
If your body is frail then yes by all means

Make yourself all honey and the flies will devour you

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