The lord of liberty city

In liberty city, shackled by the sky
he choked on sun fire in grips of desire
She with curved nails spins her innate web
slowly; selling a throttling trap for hire

He works at a bar, dealing in spirits
and back stabbing unknown averted eyes
She a stylist, with an exotic name
Hiding filthy corners with damask lies

They unite, he plays at russian roulette
Gun powdered temple or a chance at joy
She plays at solitaire, waiting for the boil
A ritual for both yields a shattered boy

The mother cannibal breaks down the meat
Feeding the worm in her womb with slivers
Corruption damns one and frees the other
The lord rises on mother's death shivers



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