How Lester Lost His Wife

First there was the fable of the bull

Told by the picador

Then an Orwellian raping of a virgin apple core

An apple core, an apple core, an apple

Core, an apple core, an apple

Next our minds were supping up the horrors

That our vicious master's whip

Was serving us in rituals nefariously hip

Wickedly hip, wickedly hip, wickedly

Hip, wickedly hip, wickedly

I had to don a disguise to see her slinking down

The snaking hallways to her chamber

But I wasn't prepared to encounter the vision

Of she and it engaged in defiling of the sacred

In an instant her face became so plaintive

And I watched as she transformed

Into the Black Amaranth

The next morning I espied

In a window framed in brass

The story of her condemnation

Portrayed in the stained glass

In the stained glass

In the stained glass, in the stained

Glass, in the stained glass, in the stained

Glass