Black Nail, by Sir Garland Penrose
Align my flesh and pierce my skull
Hammer poised to strike it true
Strike and strike the sharp to dull
Bash the morals through and through
Sing your praises, appraise my sins
You are justice I am just held
All the while my patience thins
Within these walls I should have felled
Slain in my mind a dozen times
When I see you laid down dead
I’ll sing your elegy; be sure it rhymes
You’ll see the nail left in my head
You’re a tool to make them fear
Wrought of curses and of chorus
My name scares the few to hear
My harp my song my crowd uproarious
It doesn’t matter what the sentence
Let loose upon this cursed town
I’ll defy my forced repentance
Wear a dozen nails—a cursed crown
Align my flesh and pierce my skull
Hammer poised to strike it true
Strike and strike the sharp to dull
Bash the morals through and through
))
