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: Hammer Of The Witches

Interpret:
Cradle of Filth
Album:
Hammer of the Witches
Breastfed red dementias
Familiar with their suckled hostess
Unhinge her bridle scold
A quest for misadventure
Wrests her glare of buckled gnosis
From bloodstained floor to holy centrefold


Death is tensing to explode


Inquisitioners sought her
Scenting the bent in her veins
Stripped and readied for torture
Enslaved to shame


The fist of humanity taught her
Scissors and spiked tourniquet
Dionysian daughter
Pressed to confess from the pain


I say "Toll the demon bell
The rotting hearts of Man
Shall light the path from Hell"


Vestial desecrators
Familiar with her secret ewers
Soon tied to licking flame
Rest their 'tests' fir kater
As sweet revenge from reejubg sewers
Ybciuks and skudes amidst this unfair game


A Storm is rolling in
Unleash the fucking curse...
Calling the fallen
Crawling from the shadows of God


Now their tables turn, blind faith learns
Papal sermons oft have lied
Save that the coven the Black Goat governs
Is very much wide-eyed, alive


She summons prool
On virulent wings, a plague is coming
Cuntfire-hoofed
From mating with the Devil
On the torch-lit Brocken


Baphometic by design


A penchant vent for vengeance
Cut deep by horrors fought
Those dungeon-screams for mercy
Shalt keep for everybody


Nine circles down they heard her
Ten times the hecatomb
A thousand souls for those church-murdered
Dark ken align to render doom


Their punishment overdue


Striking unbiblical chords that roar
Invoke raw branded skies
As forked lightning feeds the hordes of war
Her broken hands revive


For sisters, missed, once powerless
Tongues torn out by the root
Fell whispers rose to a seething congress
Of spirits born for Death's pursuit


Never a dusk so drunk on lust
Caressed the cobbles red
Frights she called, the flights of Ghouls
Left little of their brittle flesh


Judgment night descended
Like the bonfire's fall of ashes


Inquisitioners slaughtered
Venting the dent in her brain
Stripped and readied, debauchers
Prepared to stain


The gist of humanity taught her
Intolerance, murder in vein
Dionysian doughier
Soon to deliver the pain


I say "Toll the demon bell
The rotting hearts of Man
Shall light the path from Hell"


And refreshed of this dementia
Their thumbscrews,
Pears and cruel whiplashes
She turns her craft
To the next fat secret grove