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lirik lagu nolan potter's nightmare band - mellification

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mellification, something the ancients used to practice
something the same historians who wrote about mad honey said down in their records, long before jesus walked the earth
youth, the ever~deared
emma couldn’t hear what honey said next, her speech m~ffled and distorted inside the tank
there was a squelching, sucking sound
honey laid a glistening, shrunken skeleton thing, gently on the flowers beside emma
bees swarmed hungrily upon it
sweetness began to glug into the tank as one by one, honey emptied the huge vessels to refill it
she’d been a girl from greenwood
a few miles southeast of ardenhouse, barely in her teens, honey’s father had become infatuated
that was what had done for poor old mother
honey; sylvia, as she’d been back then, had seen to it that there was no happy ever after for the pairing, however
at first the idea had been to preserve the body, that was what mellification was supposed to do
when her father returned, his young lover vanished
she had walked into the orchard, show him what he had done, then when he was broken, she’d shown him what she had done
show him his dead~eyed sweetheart, now sweeter than ever
but mr. arden never returned
whether it was curiosity, boredom, or madness that led to her first taste, she couldn’t say
the ancients wrote that honey from a mellified body was supposed to have miraculous, even magical properties
soon, she knew it was true
age did not wither her, she remained forever the young mistress of ardenhouse
well, not quite forever
you see recently, she’d begun to notice some changes; uncool changes
she’d been thinking that it was time to replenish her supply, begun to wonder how she would do it
and then one night, she’d come across a burning car on a deserted country lane
emma’s vision faded slowly from glowing amber through the stygian black
as her living dead form sank, languorously
the rusted bolts grasped into place, one by one
days turned to weeks, turned to months, without her noticing or caring
the only sound, the intermittent squeaking of a rusted tap
echoing sluggishly through the viscous sweetness which enveloped all


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