Interpret:

Cradle of Filth

Album:

Nymphetamine

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 
Naked 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