All Clad In Black

The winding staircase, rotting floors
In darkened rooms behind closed doors
’Neath leaking roofs that let in rain
All clad in black, the man who reigns
Within a bedroom dark and cold
In an armchair damp and old
Clutching at a silver cane
All clad in black, the king of pain.

Behind a window caked with mud
Above a garden drowned with flood
Within a room of cobwebs plagued
Encased in chains of iron made
Upon a musty, dusty bed
Within the house that I have wed
Into the wild, wet winter late
All clad in black I lie; and wait.

Within those eyes of daggers made
Raises a glitter like a blade
And in that hand the whip is raised
Tearing my skin with a bloody raze
And from that body with the crown
A vicious cat-o-nine rains down
And like the poet with his bells
My pounding heart a rhythm knells.

And the pacing of his feet
In the absence of the heat
And in the beating of my heart
In a body torn apart
And the pounding of his stick
Upon the dusty floorboards thick
Rises in my heart a quake
All clad in black with lips so red he whispers, “Break.”

And with the rising of the whip
With the feel of skin that rips
With the beating of his fist
With the giving of this gift
With the flowing of the blood
Like a molten lava flood
With the way my body aches
And the way he whispers, “Break.”

With the screaming in the rafters
Now to die – die now or after –
All piercing through my brain
And the pain, pain, pain
In the salty tearful rain
And the chains, chains, chains
With which I am restrained
Oh the pain, pain, pain, pain, pain.

And the breaking of my bones
Into pieces, no-one knows
Of the sore, sore, sore
That does keep my body poor,
Oh the pain, pain paean
He inflicts as he does reign
And the pain, pain, pain shooting through my tortured brain
And the crashing and the smashing and the bashing and the breaking of my body that is aching
And the pain, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain.

And as it takes a tortured turn
All my muscles oh! They burn
Like the fire in the briers of the late, late winter night
And my mind has took to dreaming and my lungs are torn from screaming with an agonised delight
And the music that does borrow with a little broken sorrow echoes through the night
And my broken body full of ache
Thrills to the whisper, “Darling – break.”

And I am broken now, for good,
My eyes are bleeding, blind with blood,
My limbs are aching, my heart too
With the thrill of being with you
In this house so full of ghosts
This heav’nly prison that does boast
The memories of agony
We did worship – I and he.

The winding staircase, rotting floors
In darkened rooms behind closed doors
Behind a window caked with blood
Above a garden drowned with mud
Within a room of cobwebs plagued
Encased in chains of iron made,
Upon a dusty, musty bed
Within this house that I have wed
We lie together, love and blood,
Pain has never felt this good,
In a kingdom small he reigns,
All clad in black, the King of Pain.