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From your bitten nails

The filth of thy day descends upon me

The messy hair falls on me

I warm you up in the ecstasy

When you gasp with desire

I whisper in a paid-up voice

Go down there, I'm trembling

There is a fire and sweet smell

Grown into the scars of age

Your crude ranting

Whispered right into my ears

The filth of thy day falls on me

Reflecting the clanging sound of

Rain from a rusted gutter

When you crawl at my feet

You'll do as I say

I am the mistress of this court

The star among the spiders

The Virgin Mary with the dirty face