Cradle Of Filth
English Fire
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10.88 МБ
Битрейт
320 кбит/c
Длительность
4:45
163
| Добавлена 1 сентября 2011 пользователем Iron Man |
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Текст песни English Fire
Seven brides serve me seven sins
Seven seas writhe for me
From Orient gates to R'lyeh
Abydos to Thessaly
And Sirens sing from stern
But now I cease to play
For I yearn to return
To woodland ferns
Where Herne and his wild huntress lay
Now the tidal are turning
Spurning the darkness
The great purgations of distinguished tours
Are but stills in time
To the thrill that I'm
Once more
Heading to the bedding
Of her English shores
The wind bickered in Satanic mill sails
Eyes flickered in deep thickets of trees
And mists clung tight in panic to vales
When Brigantia spoke her soul to me
From Imbolg to Bealtaine
Lughnasadh to Samhain feasts
I heard her lament as season's blent
Together a chimerical beast
Now the tidal are turning
Churning in darkness
The celebrations of extinguished wars
Are but stills in time
To the chill that climbs
Once more
Dreading the red weddings
Seven seas writhe for me
From Orient gates to R'lyeh
Abydos to Thessaly
And Sirens sing from stern
But now I cease to play
For I yearn to return
To woodland ferns
Where Herne and his wild huntress lay
Now the tidal are turning
Spurning the darkness
The great purgations of distinguished tours
Are but stills in time
To the thrill that I'm
Once more
Heading to the bedding
Of her English shores
The wind bickered in Satanic mill sails
Eyes flickered in deep thickets of trees
And mists clung tight in panic to vales
When Brigantia spoke her soul to me
From Imbolg to Bealtaine
Lughnasadh to Samhain feasts
I heard her lament as season's blent
Together a chimerical beast
Now the tidal are turning
Churning in darkness
The celebrations of extinguished wars
Are but stills in time
To the chill that climbs
Once more
Dreading the red weddings
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