Poppaea Lyrics

Theatre Of Tragedy - Poppaea Lyrics

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Poppaea Lyrics

Dream of a funeral, blest temptress - behest me! -

A funeral thou'lt hark, swarth murderess - the Devil,

Thine feral grith with me, Poppaea, be Hell's hap:

Waylaid the beldame bawd, the niggard: Laughing tragedy.

And the wench doth bawdness to blow,

Stay my adamant -

Suffer me to transfix thee:

And the wench doth bawdness to blow,

Let me dawt thine twain -

And, twine 'hem apart.

Of marrow, do na mell; I am Morelle -

The bosom'd Titivil; travail me; fain,

Subdue me with thine lote in oneness - make haste yet,

Displode me in a font - Poppaea, do what thou wilt.

And the wench doth bawdness to blow,

Stay my adamant -

Suffer me to transfix thee:

And the wench doth bawdness to blow,

Let me dawt thine twain -

And, twine 'hem apart.