There's grit in her eyes and her teeth
There's acid in the joints of her limbs
The dawn is shivering grey, coughing to spit
The city sings its orders and its hymns
Each disease has set up home and settled in
There's order to her chaos and her decay
When she laughs, she laughs like the devil
And she laughs at your ambition and dismay
She will have her revenge on the young who never again
Well, did you insult her with a tension?
She will scratch welts across the faces
Scar them, they deserve it for their comfort and their nerve
And the pale, flacid weakness most of all
You disgust her with your books empty of wisdom
You disgust her with your stories of yourself
She knew leaders, now she sees you on your belly
She sees you mewling dumbly for your health
She watches as you whine about your nature
She watches as you scramble for a bath
She's been lonely, a thing of evil
Ever since the meek inherited the earth
But she will have her revenge on the traitors who are content to do no more than exist
They will feel the sting of her sharpened nails
Struck by, unafraid you will learn before you pay
You'll remember, you'll remember when she's done
She hates you without cause and without reason
She hates you every moment that she wakes
There's nothing you can do to placate her
There's nothing you can do to escape
She's a welt on the ass of England
A sore on its bleeding lip
And she will be waiting, watching for
The smile on your face to slip