He was a choirboy

Little angel of the melodies

.

Childish eyes, the soprano

Like innocence, like prey

.

Little lamb, little lamb,

Mary doesn't have to know

.

His solos now stained with his tears

He sings he mourns he cries

.

Salva me, salva me

What a voice, what a boy

.

Ringing, dancing through the church

In which he was betrayed

.

His choirmaster the friendly priest

But unholy, unholy.


A/N: Thanks for reading. Probably I'm unholy for writing this. But uh, I've recently been re-addicted to the Libera choir. So. O_o