Saturday, 30 January 2010

The Bells

Beata Maria, you know I'm so much purer than, the common, vulgar, weak licentious crowd! Then tell me, Maria, why I see her dancing there, why her smouldering eyes still scorch my soul!

Beata Maria, don't let the siren cast her spell, don't let her fire sear my flesh and bone!

Like fire, hellfire, this fire in my skin, this burning, desire, is turning into sin!

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