Lyrics:

The mountains at her back
The horizon gnawing at her throat
Slowing the butchers you planted

Bloom and swing the blades
Fumble with the ropes
As the twilight takes its place

Gaze at the witch boiling inside

Broken nails, grip feels frail
In sheets she'll sail
Close your eyes oh friend
I'll show you how they did you
I'll make them fail

The scorn you left her
At pleasure's door
You fucking bastard
In sheets she sails