Sabbath Nights (The Impure Reptile)

On sabbath nights
The paying lovers pluck the forbidden
Fruits ripe or green
The harem of sultanas
Fallen into disgrace

Sell indulgences and genuflections
The knight-errant sharpening his blade
Denude his temples to don
Enemy uniform

Uttering fetish prayers
Openly raise his sword against the queen

Swearing upon her altars
The impure reptile
Withering the rose

Guns are pointed
Bolts click back
Turn against the sorry
Birds of paradise

Condemned to impalement
It is crucifixion day
In a feather bed
Drenched in a white spray
The gold-brocaded whores

Retain only the nectar in the thorns
The impossible wedding in the seraglios
Of a satyr and a succubus

Rubbing together
Their pelvises as couples of snakes intertwined
For a quick jolt of vile flesh

The warrior shudder over the enemy he has just fetted

Bone-dry
The hangman's rope finally spewed forth its lactation
The dead pope's corpse excommunicates
His last angels
His infantry abdicates

The smoke of gunpowder still hung on the battlefield
The thoroughgoing whore
Gaine her stripes and being raised
To the rank of a brave
Canonizing her by a few
Thwacks across the backside
To die for
The brothel-hound sake
The smoke of gunpowder still hung on the battlefield

The bitches war to see sperm spurt
Spattered with fuck
Ashamed of nothing
For gold being thicker than cum

These worn-out sluts were women long ago
Let us love them
They still have souls