Текст песни Theatre Of Tragedy - Black As The Devil Painteth (remix), слова песни Theatre Of Tragedy

Текст песни Theatre Of Tragedy - Black As The Devil Painteth (remix)

Theatre Of Tragedy - Black As The Devil Painteth (remix) слова песни

An artist is what is call`d the self that the brush holdeth -Though hath it then caringly caress`d theCanvas of to-morrow?,O Canvas! for thee I hold my tool - still! passionless it quivereth,Minding not that my hands are more than apt;My Muse,Where is hiddenThe blue-hud arch`neath the High Heaven`s rich emblazonry,The flowery meadow, embrac`d by the horizon - snowflakd and aerymountains,In which the barebreastd maidens dance to the lay o` midsummer,Aloft the distant lazy flapping of the doves in vainglore.O Canvas!, wherefore canst thou these images not allow? -I deem a projection of my Theatre they should be! -Then, I challenge thee the wisdom of naysaying the yearns o` mine -What is this unforseen that not enjoineth light shades to be skillfullypaintd?The raven sky prey`d on by the snowfill`d, blustery clouds,Unadornd the meadow - hunger driveth the wolf out of the wood,The maidens chaind and whippd within a dreary dungeon -And, lo! `twixt the wizen roses a mossy grave:"The Devil is as Black as he Painteth" -O Canvas! wherefore?...

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Theatre Of Tragedy

Black As The Devil Painteth (remix)

Текст песни Theatre Of Tragedy - Black As The Devil Painteth (remix)

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