The death of Mary Layne.

Breathtaking. Goes the girl from Martyrville.
Horror stands still. Pay a penny for the riverman.
Here comes the story of the death of Mary Layne.

Breathtaking. Goes the girl from Martyrville.
A gasp, a shock, a swift standstill.
Here comes the story of the death of Mary Layne.

Too much time for lads and pipes to admire the view. A landscape too unsurvivable to be true.
Amy introduced her to the Bryce town lads. Started up with cans of special brew and dodgy fags.
Luck was in. Chastity drawing near. The sound of unbuckled belts alarmingly clear.
Audible amomgst the sound of freed beer.

The Free-love boys from down the road. Saw the impossible way she glowed.
The free-love boys. Untill dawn they drove.
Mary in the back. She screamed. They found the cove.
What have I done wrong? entangled within the sordid maze they wove.
They tore and ripped. Burned her on the stove. Gssping she blowed and blowed.
The Bryce town lads can't help her woes. the waves shattered upon the cove.
Welcome to Brighton and Hove.

No towel. Not even a towel. Blood upon the stones.
Chastity is now communaly owned.
Free love is getting all it can. a swish, a flick of a blade. into the night they ran.
And the car is waiting. Engine prepared, with more solace than that for which they cared.
And the stones emmitt a pure blood stain.
The murder of dear-beloved Mary Layne.

Cargan Olfur. Peacexx