Three Linden Opera:We Live

Mack:

We live, only to die.
We learn, only to lie.
We burn, from the other side.
We cringe, at the trades we plied.

We search, for what's implied.
We crow, at debaucheries we've tried.
And laugh, at the tears others have cried.
We sicken, just like cyonide.

It starts, when we drop from the sky.
It grows, as we grow snide.
It crests, as we fly.
It ends, with sluicide.

It's not, a new world,
but into our, abyss we're hurled.
Little linden, in phony banks we've squirelled.
And a banner, of black unfurled.

We bend, and then we break.
We're robbed, until we take.
Every feature, is a careful fake.
An artifice that others make.

Girls:
We live, only to die.
We learn, only to lie.
We burn, from the other side.
We cringe, at the trades we plied.

Mack:
We look, and we never see,
at our own, hypocrisy.
The takings, they go to me,
And the governors in a cubicle sea.

I can't resist the urge,
of all, my dark drives to purge,
Give, the noobs a chance to splurge,
While I sing, my soul's last dirge.

It reeks, and I love the stench,
with each taking of a stupid wench,
while in the real, her guts heave and wrench,
stuck to a lockmiester bench.

It's bliss, to be so wrong,
It's love, you know it all along,
Your mine, and you will sing my song,
You'll suck, my pixelated schlong.

Bruthea:
I only want to help,
Some one that I love,
I cannot stay with her,
nor leave her quite alone.

Mack: (Whips Bruthea)
You're not, getting with the game,
Come here, you're never quite the same,
You've only, your own lusts to blame.
The foolish moth, drawn to dark.
You thought, that this was a lark,
I laugh, with a studied snark.

Bruthea:
I live, because I give,
I love, with the softness off a dove.


Mack:
You need? Then drink my swill
And cum, while I have my fill,
Then bend, to my will.
You want? I'm giving nil.

This fate, will keep you very still.
You real voice, I'll soon hear trill.
As I crush, your spirit in my mill,
And your whoring, will help pay my bill.

Chorus:
We live, only to die.
We learn, only to lie.
We burn, from the other side.
We cringe, at the trades we plied.

Bruthea:(A short note)
Ah.

(Whips her)

Mack:
Louder, longer, stronger, prouder.

Bruthea:
Ah. Ah. Aaaa!

Mack:
When you sing,
you sing for lust,
that ripens, inside your bust.
Give up, on faith or worldly trust,
and do, what you know you must.

Bruthea:(To the tune from "Another World")
Ah. ah, aaaaa. Ah, ah ah aaaaaa.
Ah, aaaa ah.

Mack: (Whips her again, and she is pinned to a torture table.)
(Spoken)
You live, only to die,
you burn, to have me inside,
You'll cringe, at the trades you'll ply.
And you'll scream, my oh my.

Are you mine?

Bruthea:
Ah, aaaa ah.
Ah, aaaa ah.

Mack:(Spoken)
Yes, that's good enough.
Bring in the client.
You are going to play...
his sister.

(A client, cock hanging out, is led in...)