Cradle Of Filth
Tragic Kingdom
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13.72 МБ
Битрейт
320 кбит/c
Длительность
5:59
73
| Добавлена 1 сентября 2011 пользователем Iron Man |
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Текст песни Tragic Kingdom
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
On this stage only death was certain
Singing through the turrets
Like a velvet serenade
Played near a grave
Sentries and gentry, afforded the bloom
Of a red setting sun and a bloodletting moon
Applauded, then accorded them
Portents of doom
Almost too soon...
They pissed upon the winds
That rocked the cradles
Laughing over the hovels grovelling to wolves
They kissed and sinned
Under overstocked tables
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 damson absinthe
From a goblet made of bone
As lightning ripped and danced upon
The flagstones
Wayward fantasies marched on home
Now the treetops bowed to whisper
In a thin Disney veneer
They knew the howls so exquisitely honed
Were those of children disappeared
They'd listened to the winds
Heard the murdererd Abel
Re-christened in the stone jaws of Tiffauges
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
On this stage only death was certain
Singing through the turrets
Like a velvet serenade
Played near a grave
Sentries and gentry, afforded the bloom
Of a red setting sun and a bloodletting moon
Applauded, then accorded them
Portents of doom
Almost too soon...
They pissed upon the winds
That rocked the cradles
Laughing over the hovels grovelling to wolves
They kissed and sinned
Under overstocked tables
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 damson absinthe
From a goblet made of bone
As lightning ripped and danced upon
The flagstones
Wayward fantasies marched on home
Now the treetops bowed to whisper
In a thin Disney veneer
They knew the howls so exquisitely honed
Were those of children disappeared
They'd listened to the winds
Heard the murdererd Abel
Re-christened in the stone jaws of Tiffauges
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