Honey and Sulphur - Cradle Of Filth

«So potent was the star under which I was born

That I have done what no one in the world has done

Nor can ever do…»

Praeclarum

Custodem

Ovium

Lupum

All Saints Day, the taint of rain

Blood and mud and thunder all the same

To those who close their ranks to Gille’s men

Bricqueville, Prelati and De Sille

Creatures of the dark creeping up and down the countryside

Little angles out to pastume once again

Torture garden rules of thumb apply

To sacred flesh and the naked eye

Golgothic this erotica

Stinking of honey and worse, sulphur

So black was the magic in this tragical kingdom

The superstitions grew

Wise to the wolves that surprised their children

Gagged in sacks and dragged back to

Tiffauges

It’s roads now home to a beautiful stranger

Lifting her veil

Spinning her lies

Tender eyes, never-ending danger

It grows

A rose that chose death for it’s bedmuck

Prickles in wait

Thanking her spies

Trickling thighs her only hiccup

And though she walks the forest trails

She’s far from innocent or frail

She leads them down the path where darkness dwells

That night is rife with celebration

The tower sings

Where so much foul illumination

Strikes a lighthouse for the things

That slither and slather at the border of the pentagram

Mid sour dreams

A beauty pageant for the gathering damned

Of slaughtered lambs and tortured screams

Praeclarum

Custodem

Ovium

Lupum

Torture garden rules of thumb apply

To sacred flesh and the naked eye

Golgothic this erotica

Stinking of honey and worse, sulphur

So black was the magic in this tragical kingdom

In this castle of loup-garou

When moonstruck veins, inflamed, deranged on

A parcel of victims now tied to

Tiffauges

Engorged on the hordes of the anorexic

Cherubim forced

Naked and blind

A holocaust mind designed their exit

A libertine so grim

Sometimes tore them limb from limb

Slitting their throats

Pissing on graves

Jesus save but the devil made him

Praeclarum

Custodem

Ovium

Lupum