Bloody Alice (Of Abergavenny)

A screaming wraith atop a cliff
Writhing in an orgasm of slaughter
One-by-one seventy men
Did she depatch with an ever blunting blade of an axe.

Bloody Alice of Abergavenny
Gripped by the rapture of Gaedhelic gore
Dripping slowly down the cliffside
Seventy dead, yet she wants more
Bloody Alive of Abergavenny
From what fashion house does your cloth come?
All natural fibres I'll warrant
From the dye, to the cloth, to the thread from the dead.

Prisoners they were but no matter to her
Her bloodlust fuelled by the pain of her loss
For earlier that day her spouse's corpse lay decaying
On the bloody field of battle.

Bloody Alice of Abergavenny
Gripped by the rapture of Gaedhelic gore
Dripping slowly down the cliffside
Seventy dead, yet she wants more
Bloody Alive of Abergavenny
Her body dripping from her labour and it's fruits
As she gives so she taketh away.

Though he was of the invading force
And dispatched by the defenders
As so often is the case in life
A woman's rational is replaced by madness.

A screaming atop a cliff
Blooddied breasts for all to see
Yet no man looked on her with lust
As her needs fullfilled with a montain of corpses to her knees.

Bloody Alice of Abergavenny
Gripped by the rapture of Gaedhelic gore
Dripping slowly down the cliffside
Seventy dead, yet she wants more
Bloody Alive of Abergavenny
Her body dripping from her labour and it's fruits
As she gives so she taketh away.