Cradle of Filth je black/gothicmetalová skupina založená v Suffolku ve Spojeném království roku 1991. Kapela, které dominuje chorobně ječivý vokál Daniho Filtha, hrála zprvu black metal doplněný o temné klávesové party. Dnes je její styl...

Píseň: Her Ghost In The Fog

Interpret:
Cradle of Filth
Album:
Midian
The Moon, she hangs like a cruel portrait 
soft winds whisper the bidding of trees 
as this tragedy starts with a shattered glass heart 


and the Midnightmare trampling of dreams 
But no, no tears please 
Fear and pain may accompany Death 
But it is desire that shepherds it's certainty 
as We shall see..." 


She was divinity's creature 
That kissed in cold mirrors 
A Queen of Snow 
Far beyond compare 
Lips attuned to symmetry 
Sought Her everywhere 
Dark liqoured eyes 
An Arabian nightmare... 


She shone on watercolours 
Of my pondlife as pearl 
Until those who couldn't have Her 
Cut Her free of this World 


That fateful Eve when... 
The trees stank of sunset and camphor 
Their lanterns chased phantoms and threw 
An imquisitive glance, like the shadows they cast 
On my love picking rue by the light of the moon 


Putting reason to flight 
Or to death as their way 
They crept through woods mesmerized 
By the taffeta Ley 
Of Her hips that held sway 
Over all they surveyed 
Save a mist on the rise 
(A deadly blessing to hide) 
Her ghost in the fog 


They raped left... 
(Five men of God) 
...Her ghost in the fog 


Dawn discovered Her there 
Beneath the Cedar's stare 
Silk dress torn, Her raven hair 
Flown to gown Her beauty bared 
Was starred with frost, I knew Her lost 
I wept 'til tears crept back to prayer 


She'd sworn Me vows in fragrant blood 
"Never to part 
Lest jealous Heaven stole our hearts
Then this I screamed: 
Come back to Me 
I was born in love with thee 
So why should fate stand inbetween?
And as I drowned Her gentle curves 
With dreams unsaid and final words 
I espied a gleam trodden to earth 
The Church bell tower key... 


The village mourned her by the by 
For She'd been a witch 
their Men had longed to try 
And I broke under Christ seeking guilty signs 
My tortured soul on ice 


A Queen of snow 
Far beyond compare 
Lips attuned to symmetry 
Sought Her everywhere 
Trappistine eyes 
An Arabian nightmare... 


She was Ersulie possessed 
Of a milky white skin 
My porcelain Yin 
A graceful Angel of Sin 


And so for Her... 
The breeze stank of sunset and camphor 
My lantern chased Her phantom and blew 
Their Chapel ablaze and all locked in to a pain 
Best reserved for judgement that their bible construed... 


Putting reason to flight 
Or to flame unashamed 
I swept form cries 
Mesmerized 
By the taffeta Ley 
Or Her hips that held sway 
Over all those at bay 
Save a mist on the rise 
A final blessing to hide 
Her ghost in the fog 


And I embraced 
Where lovers rot... 
Her ghost in the fog 


Her ghost in the fog