Le Masquerade

Procession of motorcade flows through the streets
The rain like a curtain hangs upon the scene
As if dying was a shameful deed

Faces hidden behind glided masks in glee
Celebration of Death a la masquerade
Morbid dance of life after the dead

Smiling Hypocrisy stands among the crowd
In his teeth a blade made in Tinseltown
For your throats to sell by the British pound

Money himself dances with the sinful crowd
Triggers the giggles of them well-bred ladies
And Greed hides behind the fan of aristocracy

Sisters of mercy to us cometh
Wrap us tight with your kisses and gowns
And let not God on us frown

Embrace us and with a penance we do pay in obolus
To heal a wrong with a wrong
Make no mistakes let us be reborn

Deliver us to salvation
Before the motorcade fades
Leads us to where we belong
Right between your legs