Cauldron Black Ram Warwhorse
Azazels goat bearing the burden of sin
Fell under the unwholesome weight
On the deserted path of salvation
Retain your boned crown
A kicking mule to throw them to the sand
Let verily be a command
Not a meek whisper
And sore god and all his witnesses
Shalt know it
For it once written and again it be
Down from their abodes
Force them with might and sargons lust forth
The kingship