Tytuł: Of dark blood and fucking

• Wykonawca: Cradle Of Filth
• Wyświetleń: 231

Sister midnight comes blaspheming
   Screaming in the keys of faith and fear
   Unentweining our spines twists me to kneeling...
   Spilling like the moonlight on her glistering rear
  
   Defiled at heart
   In this perfect hell
   Under red leaves bleeding
   Over sealed chatéau we fell
   To demonocracy
   Where neither Adam or Eve
   Conceived of such iniquites
   From pleasure or pain
   Or the razor´s edge in between
  
   Thou art my seventh heaven burning
   Going down as with the sun...
  
   Writhing like a river
   fluids moves a torrent
   Bound to please
   On denierred knees
   In any wicked way
   That her whims may warrant
  
   I hang on every verb
   Every dirty word
   Interred
   In her pornoglossa...
  
   Christlike, whipped and weak
   Painted nails driven through the meek
   Yet in obituary
   My dreams still weep
   Of dark blood and fucking thee
  
   Thou art my seventh heaven burning
   Going down as with the day
   Baring lunar curvature
   Like canvas for a lick of pain
  
   Writhing like a viper
   Deep inside her Eden
   Forbidden to eat
   I kiss leylines to her feet
   Then baithing wrath
   I steal a path
   Back to the fruits of her womb
  
   Back to the crack of her tomb...
  
   Her roseate sliver
   Quivers with snuff appeal
   The torque of her hips
   Lip-syncs me in for the kill
   Tongue-tied, tightroped and spread like disease
   I drain the cup of this Miss Sire
   Her waters into wine for me
  
   Thou art my seventh angel squirming
   ´Neath the forked tongue of the beast
   Arching toward the fabled
   Like a sculptured nymph seeking base relief
  
   Whilst the world outside
   (A wood of suicide)
   Would die for this release
   Our slow orgasmic fuses greet...
  
   By night and by candle
   At each other´s throats
   In a slick drift of red
   Setting god´s teeth on edge
   We were as wolves preying inside the fold
   Of a slaughtered lamb throw
   On a four poster bed...
  
   Succulent, Succubus
  
   Laid without rest
   In the dead of the night
   Succulent. Succubus
  
   In thy arms
   And thy wetness
   On glossed lips I taste
   Conspiracies, seccrecies, sorceries laced
   With thick unguent rum
   Black-rayed suns and Autumn
   Always in season for our nightfall from grace
  
   Gorge upon my seed
   Starved Persephone
   Succulent. Succubus. Succour me
  
   That I might keep
   Thee with me in Hades
   Succulent. Succubus. Succour me