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May I tell you of my passion for the dead? |
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Erotic only in its subtext |
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Experimental fantasy, realized just recently |
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Gourmets, but only of a subset |
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Beware ye paupers |
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Likewise ye men of power |
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We hunters roam the sea |
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Seeking whom we may devour |
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We drifted on.... |
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Till starvation struck and decency was gone.... |
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And now we have changed.... |
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We gleefully embrace a life deranged.... |
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The finest wines, like vinegar, fall bitter from my lips |
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Like soot and ash, the choicest roasted game |
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The taste I crave, a scarlet flow in transit to the crypts |
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Each meal I savor had a name |
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We butcher the flesh of the living |
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To consume the flesh of the dead |
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Our legend grows as empty vessels drift into the ports |
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No sign of crew save the blood stains on the deck |
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All men shall quake at the mention of our names |
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A plague in every tongue and dialect |
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When winds do blow |
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Cold enough to chill your very soul |
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And when the tempest wails |
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Keep one eye on the sea for scarlet sails |
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Explanation: |
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This song is written from the perspective of a sailor on a lost ship. The vessel "drifted on" aimlessly until the crew nearly starved and was forced into cannibalism. As a result of this ordeal they have "changed". Embracing deep evil and adapting to an all-human diet, they now sail the seas seeking ships to capture and crews to devour. |
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Meanwhile, on the mainland, empty ships drift into the bays. No crew can be found. They seem to have disappeared. Only the cannibal crew know exactly what happened. They are the wave of predation. |
