Lyrics:

Frie Dearest, Was It Loe Soothfast Or A Facade;
a Serenade Siren'd To Lure - Zounds! Not To Court Me
a Mnad, Yet The Sweetest Colleen -
certes Didst Thou Me Unveil Meekly Life Pristine.

lorelei,
a Poet Of Tragedies, Scribe I Lauds To Death,
yet Who The Hell Was I To Dare
lorelei,
canst Thou Not See Thou To Me Needful Art
canst Thou Not See The Loss Of Loe Painful Is

ddally Didst Thou Perform The Tragic Pasquinade,
for All Years A Damndest And Driegh'd Accolade -
caus'd For All Eyes Mazed To Behold A Melee;
in The Midst Did I Swainly Cast Thee My Bouquet
the One And Sole Faggot That Feedeth The Fire,
bellowd Bidingly By My Heart's Quailing Quire.

lorelei,
a Poet Of Tragedies, Scribe I Lauds To Death,
yet Who The Hell Was I To Dare
lorelei,
canst Thou Not See Thou To Me Needful Art
canst Thou Not See The Loss Of Loe Painful Is

perchance Author I Thee This Ikon'd Apologue For Aught,
doth The Wecht Burthen Thee, Then Bethink Thine Afterthought
'tween Ther And 'nether Art Thou The Peerless Phnix -
prithee, Darlingmost! - Court Me Rather Than The Peevish Prolix