Cradle Of Filth - Death Magick For Adepts

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Come distortured artists bitter things seek meaning

Even if they're madness to behold

Once forbears to horizons where the dead stayed dreaming

Now nightmares waken souls that fear the living's toll



Gova Bosch and Brueghel three times

Moon wise stain thy graves

For words alone are at loss to trace

The face of today's inhuman wraith



One half adrift in the vast abyss of despair and misery

The other a mask of rich red lips

Whetted by the fevers of belief and greed



All damned in this inferno where virgil averts his eyes

From the black mass mutual gang rape

Of ceasing hands an forced divides



Trespass these seven gates to a world blood let to shades

Where seraphim bleat of their cold and coming master's race

In the sewers of Babylon stillborn to a trough anon

Chimiracles will hatch like plots to dredge faeces to pearl their cross



Enter penteholocaust

Five aeons past yet still man grasps

At final straws to save his cast



His lord is a leper we shall not want he betrayed us with white lies

His acrid pall as of the tomb reminds us how we rot inside

Gutted like fool's paradise gutted on cruel appetites



Holding court to chaos holding to far graver arms

A downfall fatal to all resounds

As orgies peak in self centered psalms



And nature screams her sufferings under bowed and cankered wings

A bleak scorched earth necrotica burning

Like the robes we've torn from her



She begs us lay her pain to rest

Lest we are left with nothingness

Save for her stripped and ravished flesh



And if her fate is not portent of apocalypse

Then the comets that graxe nightskies

We'll surely cleanse of wrongs and rights

When you and I and all else dies



It's rotting down this carcass maggotropolis

Interdependent as worms to the grave

Allah's true name is naught Christ cannot save

Locked in a waltz of evermore frantic steps

Spells of regret death magick for adepts



Be prepared to fulfill prophecies

The glorious fall of a sin dynasty

Glutted like fool's paradise, glutted on cruel appetites



We've woven hearts a thorn arbour

Left tear streaked reason upon the shore

And bereft of compass star or more set out for this world's end

Few at the prow most slave below painting coal a perfect gold



But for all it's worth the engines slow dead in the brine again

Come cabin fever sodomy on the bounty prey to phallus seas

That hiss and foam to douse disease a storm roars on the way

Blacker than the ace of rapes dealt out by death in darkwood glades

Our ship of fools all boards handmade sinks dashed by seismic waves

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