Текст песни Cradle of Filth - English Fire
Cradle of Filth - English Fire слова песни
Текст песни Cradle of Filth - English Fire
Seven brides serve me seven sinsSeven seas writhe for meFrom Orient gates to R'lyehAbydos to Thessaly( )And Sirens sing from sternBut now I cease to playFor I yearn to returnTo woodland fernsWhere Herne and his wild huntress layNow the tidal are turningSpurning the darknessThe great purgations of distinguished toursAre but stills in timeTo the thrill that I'mOnce moreHeading to the beddingOf her English shoresThe wind bickered in Satanic mill sailsEyes flickered in deep thickets of treesAnd mists clung tight in panic to valesWhen Brigantia spoke her soul to meFrom Imbolg to BealtaineLughnasadh to Samhain feastsI heard her lament as season's blentTogether a chimerical beastNow the tidal are turningChurning in darknessThe celebrations of extinguished warsAre but stills in timeTo the chill that climbsOnce moreDreading the red weddingsOn her English shoresGone are the rustic summers of my youthCruel winter cut their sacred throatsWith polished scythes that reap worldwidePitch black skies and forest smokeAnd the hosts that I saw thereDrones of carrion lawDrove the ghosts of my forbearsTo rove and rally once moreOne of her sons from the vast far-flungCome home to rebuildThe rampant line of the LeonineRisen over pestilent fieldsNow the tidal are turningBurning in darknessThe salvation of her hungry swordShalt spill like wineFrom the hills to chinesThat pourSpreading her beheadingsOn these English shoresFor the hosts that I saw thereDrones of carrion lawDrove the ghosts of my forbearsTo rove and rally once moreThis is a waking for EnglandFrom it's reticent dozeThis is a waking for EnglandLest hope and glory are regarded as foes