SYSTEMATICA

Dusk sets a dull gloom

I receive the night like a mistress to my bed

The eerie sound of beating drums from afar

To summon those to the Isle of the dead

On this field of life, the seed we sow

Let us reep the love, our lives thread

As the peasant yields, to recite the 'angelus'

His hand reaches out for thy bread...

BEHOLD!! " Yea, it is I, the whore of your bed, and from my loins expend, furious passion without end!

ALAS!! " yea, it is I, the fallen as said, I renounce your passage to the Isle of the dead!"