Steve Von Till - The Harpy lyrics

There was a woman, and she was wise; woefully wise was she; She was old, so old, yet her years all told were but a score and three; And she knew by heart, from finish to start, the Book of Iniquity. There is no room for such as I on earth, nor yet in Heaven; Unloved I live, unloved I die, unpitied, unforgiven; A loathed jade, I ply my trade, unhallowed and unshriven. I paint my cheeks, for they're white, and cheeks of chalk men hate; Mine eyes with wine I make them shine, that man may seek and sate; With overhead a lamp of red I sit me down and wait 'Till on they come, the nightly scum, with drunken eyes aflame; Your sweethearts, sons, ye scornful ones -- 'tis I who know their shame. The gods, ye see, are brutes to me -- and so I play my game. For life is not the thing we thought, and not the thing we plan; And Woman in a bitter world must do the best she can -- Must yield the stroke, must bear the yoke, must serve the will of man; Must serve his need and ever feed the flame of his desire, Though be she loved for love alone, or be she loved for hire; For every man since life began is tainted with the mire. Was I not born to walk in scorn where others walk in pride? The Maker marred, and, evil-starred, I drift upon His tide; And He alone shall judge His own, so I His judgment bide. Fate has written a tragedy; its name is "The Human Heart". The Theatre is the House of Life, Woman the mummer's part; The Devil enters the prompter's box and the play is ready to start.