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Текст (слова) песни: Cradle of Filth - Thank God for The Suffering



I, I still recall, the first fullmoon of may

neath whose rays we lay together

And those bright nights on glassy waves

When we would glide lightly away

From the grain

For wicked flights of pleasure

Those visions fade

Like ghosts to lifes parade

Though incisions once made her so vivid

A scarlet whore

With both heels in the door

Of a heaven severed from me, insipid

And midst the writhe of parapets

Where angels sigh, lonely she sits

Upon the lip

Only a slip from whence I beg her

That I would wish

Her kiss a chrysalis

To break to make my fluttered heart amiss

And in those frozen moments won

From grief that creeps to wreathe the sun

In drapes inwove with deathshead wing

I thank God for the suffering

Love would have conquered all

But for the rapture

That ancient plan for my defeat

Denied faith skies that would have set her free

It seems again dreams wend to capture

Once dancing in a spotlit waltz

Through shadowed dimension

Given to the rivers that bedizened her eyes

The world drifted by in lost momentum

With no divine intervention

Regardless that the author

Of sin was me and i

Lay chaste of hate in faiths embrace

As mortals warred with more besides

They warred with life itself

And in those frozen moments won

From grief that creeps to wreathe the sun

In drapes inwove with deathshead wing

I thank God for the suffering

And I thank God for the suffering

As still I burn

For her return

I would make my peace with everything

I, I still recall, the first fullmoon of may

Consigned to flames like secret letters

And midst the writhe of parapets

Where angels sigh, lonely she sits

Upon the lip

Only a slip from whence I beg her

That I would wish

Her kiss a chrysalis

To break to make my fluttered heart amiss

And in those frozen moments won

From grief that creeps to wreathe the sun

In drapes inwove with deathshead wing

I thank God for the suffering

Love would have conquered all

Were we not parted

Her splintered loss rekindles rage

The winter frost dwindles across my stage

Lit up once more to score finales started

Love would have conquered all

Love would have conquered...

Hate

 

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Все тексты песен: Cradle of Filth

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