King Wizard with the Lizard Innards

Hey, old man Merlin Spell-caster and king Among enchanters Among the Welsh Your cauldron filled with innards and milt Witchcraft in Cymraeg tongue in lowlands who have sung [Chorus]: King wizard with the lizard innards (x4) Rat king cobras And incense colored mauve Burning green flames Incantations made from blood drawn by blade Weaver of the carnal, like a loom with thread Cloth-maker of spell-crafts epeat of Chorus] Robe of exotic silk Cloaking flowers mid-in-wilt Conjuration through elixirs Transmuting the concrete from the absurd Old Druid Briton Celtic pagan Magician Drown in the beauty of the lady Her eyes reflect her lake Soon your soul she’ll take... [Second Narrator’s Perspective:] “Your fate-to asphyxiate And greet the final gate.” (Epilogue)