Words: Stanne  For thou sweepst me  in thy robe of guilt  with garments forged  in spiteful steel  No tainted pride  shall make conviction cease  None shall be unto thee proven  worthy of thy outmost fear  Let alone the silent longing  instinct shun the ones you dear  As the hunter boldly stalks his prey  intoxicated  Conviction reigns where truth might sway  intimidated  Silence the bore  Shun the ones you dear  The hunt is over  so the feast begins  What feast is enduring  when all is said and done  Everchange of hearts  The hunter's reason - fail  The hunt is treason  The hunt is over  so the feast begins  Why search for endurance  when all is said and done?