Poppaea Lyrics - Theatre Of Tragedy

Dream of a funeral, blest temptress - behest me! - 

A funeral thou'lt hark, swarth murderess - the Devil, 

Thine feral grith with me, Poppaea, be Hell's hap: 

Waylaid the beldame bawd, the niggard: Laughing tragedy. 

And the wench doth bawdness to blow, 

Stay my adamant - 

Suffer me to transfix thee: 

And the wench doth bawdness to blow, 

Let me dawt thine twain - 

And, twine 'hem apart. 

Of marrow, do na mell; I am Morelle - 

The bosom'd Titivil; travail me; fain, 

Subdue me with thine lote in oneness - make haste yet, 

Displode me in a font - Poppaea, do what thou wilt. 

And the wench doth bawdness to blow, 

Stay my adamant - 

Suffer me to transfix thee: 

And the wench doth bawdness to blow, 

Let me dawt thine twain - 

And, twine 'hem apart.