here sat babylon
|
fattened by the purses of the worst and wrong
|
where the decadent tastes of hell grew strong
|
like a curse upon
|
this tragic kingdom
|
|
Dusk descended like a final curtain
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On this stage only death was certain
|
Singing through the turrets
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Like a velvet serenade
|
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Played near a grave
|
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Sentries and gentry, afforded the bloom
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Of a red setting sun and a bloodletting moon
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Applauded, then accorded them
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Portents of doom
|
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Almost too soon...
|
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They pissed upon the winds
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That rocked the cradles
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Laughing over the hovels grovelling to wolves
|
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They kissed and sinned
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Under overstocked tables
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As the world outside grew sodden and mauled
|
|
here sat babylon
|
fattened by the purses of the worst and wrong
|
where the decadent tastes of hell grew strong
|
like a curse upon
|
this tragic kingdom
|
|
Gilles sat sipping absinthe
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From a goblet made of bone
|
As lightning ripped and danced upon
|
The flagstones
|
Wayward fantasies marched on home
|
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Now the treetops bowed to whisper
|
In a thin Disney veneer
|
They knew the howls so exquisitely honed
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Were those of children disappeared
|
|
They'd listened to the winds
|
Heard the murdererd Abel
|
Re-christened in the stone jaws of Tiffauges
|
|
Where the list of sins
|
Grew beyond fable
|
They now roared abroad, restless with debauch
|
|
Restless with debauch
|
This tragic kingdom
|
Would see Gods angels walk
|
Away
|
|
Satanic, enigmatic
|
His black magic was ecstatic
|
Megalomanic in titanic displays
|
Dressed in the best
|
Wicked britches of the West
|
He cut a mourning figure in a glorious swathe
|
|
But all his nightmares would come true
|
Drowning in a stream of conscious pleasure
|
|
Here sat Babylon
|
Fattened by the purses of the worst and wrong
|
Where the decadent tastes of Hell grew strong
|
Like a curse upon
|
This tragic kingdom
|
|
A curse upon
|
This tragic kingdom
|
|
The moon bleared through the skeletal trees
|
Averting her face from congenital deeds
|
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Thus eves grew murky, haunted, grieved
|
About this place laced with demon seed
|
|
Blanchet, a priest, his book of lies
|
Exonerated him from Giles crimes
|
Announced his fears, one night of sighs
|
A night for cursing nursery rhymes
|
In the light of fire wrestling feckless shadows
|
|
(the tracks get blacker for this tragic kingdom)
|
|
Gilles frightening wealth, his tightening grip
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On the weak and the rubies that his coffers let slip
|
Steered to near runin in succesive years
|
Of the most of excess and the best of it here
|
In the light of the fire wrestling reckless shadows
|
|
-----------------
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Tragic Kingdom
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Cradle Of Filth |