Into the street, festered and rot,
Where rats then swarm to feast or not.
The heavy stone that dangle and hang,
With littered corpse for rats to sprang.
Slithering shadow, the maiden of death,
With puff of mask that leave each breath.
Stain to call, a presented plague,
For eyes were red and tears be vague.
Artist: Dishonored by sahajoe
Song: The Drunken Whaler