|
Lust he follows virtue close |
|
Through the steaming woodlands |
|
His darkened blood through bulging veins |
|
Through the steaming woodlands |
|
Virtue knows he follows softly |
|
Through the steaming woodlands |
|
Travel light the deathly shudder |
|
Down the leafy pathway |
|
The dim light she comes peering through the forest pines |
|
And she knows by the sound of the baying |
|
By the baying of the hounds |
|
Diana Diana kick your feet up |
|
Lust bares his teeth and whines |
|
For he's picked up the scent of virtue |
|
And he knows the panic signs |
|
Lust cries running with his eyes |
|
The white-clad figure fleeting |
|
Mud burns his eyes but desire burns his mind |
|
Fear in her eyes as the forest grins through the steaming woodlands |
|
Lust now his soul destroyed with enmity disarmed |
