โหลดเพลง mp3 Swansong for a Raven - Cradle Of Filth

Swansong For A Raven - Cradle Of Filth
Forgive the day's

Last serenades

Her skies they bruise like Nordic women

Deep crimson stains
That Death would claim

His robes of office swim in

As would I
For his dark eye

Has fixed a basilisk a scythe

On charred remains
With shared disdain

For those I chose to mortify

Their cries
Have paralysed

And the smoke has choked these vistas

But still I lie
Though tears have died

On the grave of my Clarissa

A verse for her whispered to the earth
A lover's curse is a see through coffin
Praises her curves so oft concurred
Though she was
No Snow White on the night she died
Her shadower's boon when the moon glazed over

Lipped with blood and secrets pried

For on and in they spread her wide

That seraph bride
The Devil's pride

Shalt soon avenge with swift reprise

But they would writhe
For my dark eye

Bewitched was fixed like Mordecai's

On Esther's reign
And in this vein

I saw their lust still stain her thighs

Their cries
Have paralysed

And the smoke has choked these vistas

But still I lie
Though tears have died

On the grave of my Clarissa

Beneath these trees where the mist enwreathes
Her spirit flees seeing chains of torches
A fleeting kiss stirring leaves of poetry

I was
No dark knight breaking men like ice
I was like a lycanthrope until the moon glazed over

Lipped with blood and last goodbyes

Now I dream

Enwrapt in pure clouds of the sweetest oblivion

Where beauty streams
Freed from the teeth of those beasts that had come

To tear out her spells
In red lettered cells

Wherein even the crown prince of Hell

Come out of his arrogant shell
Would falter to better

But her face soon dispels
And as black feathers fell
From heaven's smoke
So I woke to insanity
Her exquisite corpse
Found fit for their sport
Of course

Would burn on the morrow with me

And there on this night
Strung up in my sight

She sways
Displayed for their vulgar delight

I scream through my bars at the stars
That for these crimes of mine solace me

I will fear not the flames
That to passion are tame
Not nearly the same searing pain
I pray As held sway upon losing her

Nor the mettle of roars
That will settle like ashes and scores

As with our ghosts in the fog
When we both turn no more