Cruel Brünhilde

Cruel Brünhilde walked among the dead

--in the crook of her arm, her blood-dripping head!

The ghost of a smile played on her teeth,

As she gently tripped o'er the bodies beneath.

(The Doctor's foul Devil was there on the heath,

And the stench of decay was his burial wreath;

And the worms writhed and swam in the murk below,

As the fingers of tendrils continued to grow.)

It was par for the course on a grey winter's day, as the world settled down,

To the stink of decay.

And the rain came in torrents to muddy the ground,

As the tolling bell clanged a funereal sound;

And Brünhilde's footfalls fell deep in the murk;

And shadows of gloom hid the phantoms that lurk.

It was par for the course on a cold winter's day, as her body succumbed,

To the stink of decay.

Cruel Brünhilde (Audio)

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