And from my throat will poor out blood
For the keepers of all that ever was
Have eaten all that there ever will be
For all that seeith not that they themselves
Hath become like unto death itself
Yea even unto the last generation
Of the daughters of man
Shall they then roll without their skins
In great vats of salt
Filled with noxious fumes
And noisome exudation's
Till such a time as all the love of power
Is sundered from the world of the flesh
And all hearts that ever beat shall purge them
For the keepers of all that ever was
Have eaten all that there ever will be
For all that seeith not that they themselves
Hath become like unto death itself
Yea even unto the last generation
Of the daughters of man
Shall they then roll without their skins
In great vats of salt
Filled with noxious fumes
And noisome exudation's
Till such a time as all the love of power
Is sundered from the world of the flesh
And all hearts that ever beat shall purge them
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