Seven deadly sorrows

This the Greville and the Tombstones Led Zeppelin moment. The epic, mystic and puzzle of imagery. And like Zeppelin, this is a rock out number of sweat and head thrown back passion. But more like Greville and the Tombstones it should be imagined as a slow paced, slide guitar number, where the performer sways and occasionally stretches an arm out.

It is an attempt at the Sublime.

I hope the fans like it.

#thereisnoband
#therearefans

This is:
Seven Deadly Sorrows

With the chill of morning

Sorrow scented on the breeze

It razed my weary life

Like a sting

 

My heart holds the pain

Of seven deadly sorrows

It beats its wings of oil

Drips on me

 

The glimpsed blade

When love was crucified

The haunted arch

When nerves untied

The whetstone

When sharp faith had died

The poison court

When my guilty body tried

The monk’s rope

When my sin was hung

The wooden door

When my chorus sung

The shimmer girl

When my eyes were young

 

But still it didn’t help me

The preacher had condemned me

To seven deadly sorrows

Like a plague

 

My heart holds the pain

Of seven deadly sorrows

Each gaunt agony

Drips on me

 

The city like a cemetery

Undead all digging themselves

I see a girl, a coven of sorrows

I say "What's your name, Girl?"

Fixes me

She says "Seven Deadly Sorrows"

 

The sombre rook, the dreary spectre

The widow with her chain

The bound book and the divination rod

My medium, my mistress

She was seven deadly sorrows

And I met her on a morning

And no more

 

Life is a lonesome act

And I must die alone so soon

I won’t carry seven sorrows

But they’ll pass by my unkempt tomb

Unknown

And will not stir the bone

 

But it still didn’t help me

Words engraved will aye be

To seven deadly sorrows

Like a curse

 

My heart holds the pain

Of seven deadly sorrows

Tears of peacock ink

Drips on me

 

The crawling sunrise, silent cloister
Prayers all gone cold

Doomed echo cries down damned crypt

My nurse, my tormentor

She was seven deadly sorrows

And I met her on a morning

And no more

 

Round behind the church

In summer and in autumn time

The graveyard is so colourful

Seven shades of perfect deadly vines

Of sorrow

Wild do the flowers grow

 

And no more

And no more

My sorrow filled life