The Troll Queen's Bride
Two pence a heartache, three pence a
distaff, the run of my fiber is blood.
Hardcore, recoil, my skirts are a gun.
I go where the wild fox runs.
Two score and twenty days I died long ago –
I cannot do this without you.
So I reach out my hands, my lustful green hands
to catch on the penny inside you.
But Devil, you are quick, and Devil, inside me,
I'm gutting myself like a blind man.
Give that blind man a knife, that blind man a wife,
and the Blind God does not kneel before me.
Bab Populer