Cradle Of Filth
The Cult Of Venus Aversa
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| Добавлена 1 сентября 2011 пользователем Iron Man |
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Текст песни The Cult Of Venus Aversa
I am She
Lilith
Mistress of the dark
Of Sheba
First offender
And succour to demons
Whose sweet seductions and wicked rites
Lead all too enslaved by the flesh
To trespass against God's holy law
And tonight I come for you
Midnight strikes, the candles sputter
Muttering their recking spells
I snuff their tongues, my heart a-flutter
These words i speak are gates to Hell
Casus belli
In hoc signo vinces
Veritas vos liberabit
Casus belli
In hoc signo vinces
In aeternum, amen
The scent of death is rent
In this ornamental verse
In ventures down the centuries
Tormenting me with secrets so anathema
And now the fires grate
I must relate, to end this curse
I'll break through spires to escape my fate
Am I too late or just perverse?
Midnight strikes, the candles sputter
Muttering their recking spells
I snuff their tongues, my heart a-flutter
These words i speak are gates to Hell
So the blight begins
Near the woodland of a frightened village
Where the rites of unimaginable sin
And the howling on the wind
Chills the blood for fear of spillage
Where nightfall used to be
Blessed with best tranquility
Its no caressed by misadventure
Templars from the crusades
Have birthed a church, more masquerade
In which they worship mass dementia
They came from dust and flame
By the Red Sea on dead shores
fleeing claims of blasphemy
And bestiality
Devils fed them back to us
Knights of holy wars, inviting hordes
Of grim infidelities
In the grip of cryptic lands
Lilith
Mistress of the dark
Of Sheba
First offender
And succour to demons
Whose sweet seductions and wicked rites
Lead all too enslaved by the flesh
To trespass against God's holy law
And tonight I come for you
Midnight strikes, the candles sputter
Muttering their recking spells
I snuff their tongues, my heart a-flutter
These words i speak are gates to Hell
Casus belli
In hoc signo vinces
Veritas vos liberabit
Casus belli
In hoc signo vinces
In aeternum, amen
The scent of death is rent
In this ornamental verse
In ventures down the centuries
Tormenting me with secrets so anathema
And now the fires grate
I must relate, to end this curse
I'll break through spires to escape my fate
Am I too late or just perverse?
Midnight strikes, the candles sputter
Muttering their recking spells
I snuff their tongues, my heart a-flutter
These words i speak are gates to Hell
So the blight begins
Near the woodland of a frightened village
Where the rites of unimaginable sin
And the howling on the wind
Chills the blood for fear of spillage
Where nightfall used to be
Blessed with best tranquility
Its no caressed by misadventure
Templars from the crusades
Have birthed a church, more masquerade
In which they worship mass dementia
They came from dust and flame
By the Red Sea on dead shores
fleeing claims of blasphemy
And bestiality
Devils fed them back to us
Knights of holy wars, inviting hordes
Of grim infidelities
In the grip of cryptic lands
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