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Текст песни Theatre Of Tragedy - Seraphic Deviltry

Theatre Of Tragedy - Seraphic Deviltry слова песни




Whether He the quaint savant`s power doth hold I know not,Albeit aetat a thousand stars` birth He is -Quoth I that for reasons to me obliviousAugust of a granditude of servants is He held,And by plastic consonantry e`en more servants to the host added are -Pelf they are, dare I say!Maugre His diurnal seraphic deviltryI say that deviltry - `tis forsooth deviltry! -Mind not this in scintillating shades clad is;To claim the glore is He suffer`d."Grant me the fallings", quoth He, "the fatter the better!",And died they of starvation;They are not slaughtering their fatlings;They are slaughtering themselves.Sith I at time of yester the questions durst ask,And dare I say this burden weightful was,Wrack of His machine-like motion was I named,Tho` blind and fond the jesters rebuiltThe machine alike - yet whetted a dight are its edges...

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