Trot Cued The Briar Ring Massacre Lyrics

Do you know the fastest way to a girls heart?

I'll ask but once! Come out you fool! You have to the count of...

... 8... 7... 6... 5... DIE!



It's straight through her ribs

To guise the Wench in fibs

(Is this the best you got... for... me?)

Her snare would catch his heart

Fowl the Beast a man apart

Is that your worst? Is that your scare?

Is this the...

(Is this the best you got... for... me?)

Despite his feint his voice would break

Of a bloody cry to keepsake



Dawn the early light

That drapes across her dress

She wore his threnody

Of a dream so contrived

Towards the spire now of clandestine the lady

My heart never felt so weary... What would she have to say?



(Cowardly men cower when men fall faster than their blood)

(His quivered voice could coax for chivalry in martyrdom)

Severely overwhelming

Dripping numbers bleed the odds

Exposing inner portraits

Grotesque upon the gallop



Awe! Oh! Awe!... Oh the Awful!



It's straight through her ribs

To guise the Wench in fibs

(Is this the best you got... for... me?)

Her snare would catch his heart

Fowl the Beast a man apart

Is that your worst? Is that your scare?

Is this the...

(Is this the best you got... for... me?)

Despite his feint his voice would break

Of a bloody cry to keepsake



Cursed be you... The General of tragedy

Cursed be

The General

Cursed be you... The General of tragedy

This is my final fervor

Raging at the least



Startled by a knock

She's quickened by the handle

What are you doing here?

Never mind all the questions

No smiles on today

So company these vials

Alleviate his torture

And prepare for the vile



(Silence served him well but the mockery would swell)

(Lurking from the palace walls rumbles of his devious glum)

You stagger and you stumble

Your mannerism's crude!

Don't shame from nature stranger

Shame from what you've done!