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Текст песни CANDLEMASS - Epistle No. 81

CANDLEMASS - Epistle No. 81 слова песни



Текст песни CANDLEMASS - Epistle No. 81




(4:30)Mark how our shadow, Mark Movits mom frereOne small darkness enclosesHow gold and purple that shovel thereTo rags and rubbish disposesCharon beckons from tumultuous waves( )Then trice this ancient digger of gravesFor thee ne'er grapeskin shall glisterWherefore my Movits come help me to raiseA gravestone over our sisterEven desirous and modest adobeUnder the sighing branchesWhere time and death, a marriage forebodeTwixt beauty and ugliness ashesTo thee ne'er jealousy findeth her wayNor happiness footstep, swift to strayFlitteth amid these barrowsE'en enmity armed, as thou seest this dayPiously breaketh her arrowThe little bell echoes the great bells groanRobed in the door the precentorNoisome with quiristers prayerful moanBlesses those, who enterThe way to this templed city of tombs




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