In Lieu of Dead Brides

Fucked on the gurney 'til you're black and blue
By beheaded banshees who cackle and coo
Who'd let a medic of blasphemous birth
Flavor his meat with the salt of the earth?
Cannons and hymnals condemn you to die
And oh how the acolytes sing?

"Lay them on the lawn like dead virgins
Goddess of the grove we praise thee
Gloria
For every one of our sisters tortured
A thousand of their sons will burn."

Fist through your gums like a five fingered kiss
A sad toothless suitor in post coital bliss
Roll up that dollar, and powder your nose
You'll show up like semen on dark colored clothes
Forceps and scalpel make a mockery of flesh
And oh how the acolytes sing?

They're pointing, laughing, while he begs
His tormentors for just one taste
Of that wicked honey between her legs
Before it goes away
And she goes away