Interpret:

Cradle of Filth

Album:

Lovecraft & Witch Hearts

Through arcades where shimmering snowfall 
Lay in state with the sad and damned 
A rent lament barely flung above a whisper 
Drew Me like a ghost to the haunts of Man 


I Found Her tempting fate between Her wrist and razor 
A kindred spirit in a graveyard 
Beneath the stature of a colder saviour 
Mist hung like thieves wreathed in scant arabesques 
And through the chill earth it bedwed Her drawling breast 
Like a come dream true under etched glass spent 
Making love to the beautiful dead 


She has sinned and severed Heaven 
And in it's vulgar sight 
Two figures writhe, but one silhouette 
Extends it's fingers to the light 


"Gothic towers tottered on Her heels 
As She fled asylum grounds 
Committing hard crimes to soft cells 
Where now another's screams resound" 


From the gaspings in Her passing 
Six feet under or beneath frayed gown 
When Her hands pointed to midnight 
In a white stained chamber bound 


I Swept Her from the abyss of another dementia 
Freeing Her soul from the fetters of fate 
To take the reins of pleasure 
Now nightwane mirrors freeze in seizure 
At the glimpse of charmed pins in Her thighs 
Ballrooms filled with black cats scratch 
Out of spite and playful eyes 


Pricked as a Witch Her stitches itch 
For familiar lips to lick them dry 
Whilst the dark regrasps, for if She asks 
The Sun forsakes the rite to rise 
And is the first to discern, that this Angel's return 
Is a vengefull call on grace 
For even martyrdom backs from it's suicide pacts 
A leap of twisted fate betrayed... 


The scars will last until the stars 
Caught in Her train bewitched 
Fall into line and yeild the sign 
That Dawn in born to their eclipse 


For Our Inhumankind 
Comes an underdog day Sunrise 
Rippling with fire llike femaledition 


Wind amidst the flame 
I gazed out 
Tapped into the fog and shared her pain 
When in her mind she sought his leave 
And begged forgiveness 


I splintered Her coffin and lay on the floor 
Of a vault with Her clasped as the moon hugs the shore 
What treachery this that She breathed no more? 
Christ you bastard! 


I wished Her back but the dead adored Her 
Even wild winds sang in chora for Her 
Saffron from my heart, from the start I swore 
We'd be together more... 


Creation froze with the triumph of Death 
But still She stirred and awoke bereft 
Of concern save for the aeons left 
To lead the darkness... 


She schemes of growing power and the lengths sucked hard to get it 
I dream of being God but ever living to regret it 
Our fecund nature decrees that Jesus wept come for 
The Devil on Her knees 


To grant Her lows a remedy 
And mine desire's wish 
To taste thereof of Heaven's scent 
As sick and twisted as it is 
For Her corset laced with arsenic 
Hides snake curves within Her midst 
Whilst Her halo of white lies supplies 
Her temple to what God forbids.