Cradle Of Filth

"Kill a man and you are a murderer.
Kill millions of men and you are a conqueror.
Kill everyone and you are a God."
[Jean Rostard (1955)]
Born of the best of enemies
Beyond the pearly constellations
Wherein heaven has no embassy
And hope no surly grip on reason
Yahweh: frankincense
Satan; gold and murder
He is sly, bejewelled with sylph
Slick limbs spread wide to guide you through the filth
And rust
Crawl to him fuelled by lust
He's the horned one in the pentagram
A waste of chaos by the gram
Dark eyes for trouble, double damned
Despair
The storm upon lake Lacrymose
Restless. never comatose
The thorn upon the single rose
We share...
Germination
His a renegade a Capella now obeyed
A shitstorm without warning
The pleasuit King In Yellow on parade
Son of the thunderous morning
Yahweh: frankincense
Satan: gold and murder
He is high. inured with vice
The tower-cree er on our edelweiss
Career
A foreign power cut of utter fear
Taught curiosity, he s atrocity. banned
The taste of chaos by the dram
A tortured course like slaughtered lamb
Best rare
The curse that haunts this thirsting tomb
Disturbed, becomes the worst of doom
Rehearsing all his worth for soon
He's there...
Extermination
He is hatred. greed and war
He is everything we ought abhor
Were it not for the fateful truth
Be sure
We suffer him all the more
And lo! his tyrant's eye
Is fixed upon our rich and vibrant sky
Now hear the wind
Herald desolation
As on that eve when angels clad
In nothing but their whispered virtues
Slipped into the valley
Of the dirty serpentine
Hes the horned one in the pentagram
A waste of chaos by the gram
Dark eyes for trouble, double damned
Despair
The storm upon lake Lacrymose
Restless, never comatose
The thorn u on the single rose
we share...
Desperation
Disdainful. he self-deprecates
The mirror's jagged stare
And it's painful how we subjugate
The grinning face reflected in there
Yahweh: frankincense
Satan; gold and murder