Songtexte:
Cradle Of Filth Thornography

We rise with the sun in the underworld We suffer from a graveless name We prise wide lids and wounds with lips curled Over teeth that have tasted shame

The needle in the eye of the hurricane The poison in the font The nail in the coffin of the profane I am the lot Maniacal the fire That weaves inside

One might see in Mina My disease But it is she who has infected me For all eternity As the sun slips the tearaway stars Into the scented scheme of night

As lonely as a poet on the Walls of Jericho Or the moon without the comfort of the stars I am loathe to know it that a man without a soul Is nothing but

I live to drink without oxygen From the spring of the water of life He whoever overcomes will inherit all this And I will be his God and he will be my

With the snow fallen thick and bonfires are alit And shooting stars portent of rips I ascended to spur, a mere glimpse or murmur From her precious celestial

: ?Carrion my name For those who choose to mouth the curse A tragic serenade With Judas in my stride The Gothic halls of shame Where statues coldly hold

: As lonely as a poet on the wall of Jericho Or the moon without the comfort of the stars I am loathe to know it that a man without a soul Is nothing

: Howitzer glare and spitfire blade Wooed by Dresden serenades Her soundtrack now a bombing raid Bored of vaudeville God was six days sober On the night