The Hallowed Leech

The earthly servant fears the fall
Not quite their holy after all
Insignia and torn appointments
Are futile in the face of death

For the delegate of God
They shall give their pristine blood
Sweet young life to fill his veins
And thus bring him back again

Three coins and glory shall be paid
Prepare our needles, pins and blades
The scarlet streaming cascades gold
A blessing in their dying throats

And for the vicegerent of God
You shall give your pristine blood
Your young vigor in his veins