DARK WITH BLOOD AND FUCKING

Cradle Of Filth

Letra de la canción

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 fuc*** 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


fuente: musica.com

Cradle Of Filth
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