Gustavus

Gust oh Gust
Dancing on your way.

Lavish passes at those striking dresses
Never satisfy your ways.
Masked beauty, no matter
Place, Grasp, Spin

Gust of Gust
Dancing on your way.
Future butcher of the new French way.

Sweat and blood fill your hands
but all you see is gold.
While you dance your people only watch
quietly, waiting, stern.
But still you spin, grasp, spin

Gust oh Gust
Dancing on your way.
Bringer of sins and fear.
You care little.
But they care much.
Whiskey, Wine, then Beer.
Prancing dances that tires the senses.
Moderately working tenses.
But you still grasp, spin, bow

Gust of Gust
Dancing on your way.
Tired grow friends that sit and wonder.
Romantic dancing of sword playing fancies
Never knew to begin.

Gust of Gust.
No more dancing.
Tonight you will see.
What it means.
To be looked on cornered and murdered.