You there, Father! Listen, listen.
Kill the son, kill the child of the magi council,
He who dabbles in great chaos and
Grows hellebores in the pores of your nose.
He belongs here no more;
Madness possesses him as bright fruit does to flies,
Sucking and sucking.
O madness!
Why did it come so early?
Too early, those castle shrinks had always said,
O what a broken boy he is!
After all, he is the son of madness,
And maybe he will not bother you or them
Once he is gone.
So kill the son, kill the son of madness.
Father, you must,
He is big and dirty, and your
Lovely set of morals and values will be mistaken.
And your legacy, your legacy too!
O that beautiful legacy,
You see it with your black eyes,
Black as a black crow's blindness,
And your son of madness spoils it.
But you have a thousand sons
From a thousand other women to help carry it.
Therefore, this one serves no purpose.
So kill the son, kill the son of madness,
For he will not soil it anymore once he is gone.
