Poets racking absinthed brains
|
Could never fully paint these nights
|
No martyr parting from his pain
|
Could utter words so erudite
|
As those she now divulged to me
|
In throes of passions grip
|
Indulging latent fantasies
|
That ran forked tongues along the lip
|
|
Of fate's pudenda
|
The twisted snake's agenda
|
Now the world would bend
|
To her deadly legacy
|
|
Life's graveyard was waiting, such dizzying flight
|
From the convent at All Hallows Fair
|
Without contemplating, we fled through the night
|
Too blood-drunk and cunt-sated to care
|
|
The Goddess had spoken
|
And woken desire
|
It crackled in the air around us
|
A psychic force shimmering like fire
|
|
And on her breasts. that old necklace
|
The one I snuck from the fucked Abbess
|
Whose dirty little secret, other than me
|
Now shone with bold intensity
|
|
Vast the power it possessed
|
The darkness Brought to living flesh
|
|
This treasure was ancient, taken by force
|
From an elite caste of priests in Delphi
|
The Templars were patient, they stayed out the course
|
Then fleeced their Greek hosts in their sleep
|
|
That necklace traversed
|
Vile murders and miles worse
|
But what was a curse
|
To this perverse demoness?
|
|
Legend swore it was a gift of malice
|
For the maiden Harmonia
|
The illegitimate spawn of love arid war
|
Jealousy made it gleam for her
|
For with it clasped, her looking glass
|
Was ever beautiful and young
|
But disaster choked her royal caste
|
And every throat on which it hung
|
There madness, death and horror clung
|
|
Immortalised in mortal guise
|
She was a sight for blighted eyes
|
A plague to gladly plagiarise
|
And spread like red excited kisses
|
|
She was more than me
|
More than wards
|
Could fulfil in the parlance of the angels
|
She cast a spell on every cell
|
In my nobody
|
She gave me back my tongue
|
That she might run it on herself
|
|
She was Lilith. she was light
|
I was but a parasite
|
Beckoned to temptation
|
In her velvet overtones
|
Through frozen antics, dressed in white
|
She led me into paradise
|
Neath comets in ovation
|
Like the Queen of winter, throned...
|
|
Pleasures archetypal
|
Then much rarer agonies
|
I was a sworn disciple
|
Of her whims and dark decrees
|
|
In Europe's hair
|
Her spies were everywhere
|
A sylph amongst the filthy rich and debonair
|
Her greater plan
|
All chaos and the all of man
|
For as she fed dark appetites
|
She bred her children there
|
|
The spawn of love and war
|
|
Presiding over Hellfire clubs
|
Arch-masons and Agharta
|
|
The spawn of love and war
|
|
She rode the beast. her legs apart
|
A blazing pyre starter
|
|
Life's playground elated, such dizzying sights
|
And sensations ignited her grin
|
As slaves celebrated her Satanic rites
|
We climbed up to heaven in sin
|
|
She came to me
|
As she will come to You
|
Intoxicating in her seduction
|
Her siren sway. devastating voodoo
|
|
Persistent, resistance is useless, fool
|
To this Goddess, in lust she's cruel
|
|
Beyond any measure, her pleasures will found
|
A perverted Eden on sacred ground
|
|
vast the power I caressed
|
The darkness brought to vivid flesh
|
And in it she now rules a cowered universe
|
|
-----------------
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The Spawn Of Love And War - Elder Version
|
Cradle Of Filth |