Midnight Shadows Crawl To Darken Counsel With Life
The evening air laps thick about The stagnant moat that Tiffauges claims As dusk now slips away Where taught to run, the gotterdamerung Has started licking like a flame
Whispers in the dismal mist Are full of crystal promises
Black rites begun in earnest Ignite Hell’s hungry furnace
Behold the bold inauguration of the darkside Demonic passions climbing Ill-fated stars aligning
Tonight these sights are guaranteed to feed the master The tide of blood is rising His gifts will be providing
Unmasked, the phantom lord De Rais Haunts the furthest tower Wherein death sucked the hour There, throttled gasps are tantamount to foreplay And drooling razors next to come Unspool red secrets from the young
The moon grinned full, the games were chaste When the children first arrived Now midnight shadows crawl apace To darken counsel with their lives
Flesh and ecstasy as sport Are immortal vices of the highest order Wherein devilry holds sway Behind blind walls where these cockatrice squalled Their songs of Necronomicon…
They spoke of Gilles De Rais Each murdered son, each frozen rose Handpicked, was gently fed To the sumptuous one in black and those Whose lives were thrown in with the dead
The candles lit, the stage set As it was in sainted days When censers swung and banners hung On the Siege Of Orleans on the painted Seine
Now the castle floats in the drifting fog Torn from it’s moorings Like a shipwreck dredged from Hell As innocents entreat a shifting God Their voices soaring On a silver tide to heaven On a knife edge as they fell
The blade would plunge in virulent arcs Such wounds would stretch away By the fireside, warmed to creative sparks Of the monster Gilles De Rais
Gilded Gilles De Rais
Comets vomited The restless bells of crime Peeled back skin from broken bones Of angels cut from the nicks of time
Festering faces with painted eyes The prettiest kept to be thrust inside Caping necromantic from the mantle-side Caked in kisses goodbyes
Caked in kisses goodbyes
Days faded in decay The stench of perfume lied No horror in the glades of man Was left for Barron to provide
So unique was he beat of his poisoned heart And it’s sordid, morbid crack No further atrocity could possibly surpass Unrewarded, bored, he turned his back
Compositores: Robson Mark Edward Newby, Daniel Lloyd Davey, Paul James Allender, David Pybus, Martin Skaroupka (Marthus), Charles Hedger ECAD: Obra #2912194