Cradle Of Filth - Thank God For The Suffering - Текст песни

 I, I still recall, the first fullmoon of
 May
 Neath whose rays we lay together
 And those bright nights on glassy
 Waves
 When we would glide lightly away
 From the grain
 For wicked flights of pleasure

 Those visions fade
 Like ghosts to life's parade
 Though incisions once made Her so
 Vivid
 A scarlet whore
 With both heels in the door
 Of a heaven severed from me, insipid

 And midst the writhe of parapets
 Where angels sigh, lonely she sits
 Upon the lip
 Only a slip from whence I beg Her

 That I would wish
 Her kiss a chrysalis
 To break to make my fluttered heart
 Amiss
 And in those frozen moments won
 From grief that creeps to wreathe the
 Sun
 In drapes inwove with deathshed wing
 I thank God for the suffering

 Love would have conquered all
 But for the Rapture
 That ancient plan for my defeat
 Denied Faith skies that would have
 Set Her free
 It seems again dreams wend to capture

 Once dancing in a spotlit waltz
 Through a shadowed dimension
 Given to the rivers that bedizened
 Her eyes
 The world drifted by in lost momentum

 With no divine intervention

 Regardless that the author
 Of sin was me and I
 Lay chaste of hate in Faith's embrace
 As Mortals warred with more besides

 They warred with life itself
 And in those frozen moments won
 From grief that creeps to wreathe the
 Sun
 In drapes inwove with deathshed wing
 I thank God for the suffering

 And I thank God for the suffering
 As still I burn
 For Her return
 I would make my peace with everything

 I, I still recall, the first fullmoon of
 May
 Consigned to flames like secret letters
 And midst the writhe of parapets
 Where angels sigh, lonely she sits
 Upon the lip
 Only a slip from whence I beg Her

 That I would wish
 Her kiss a chrysalis
 To break to make my fluttered heart
 Amiss
 And in those frozen moments won
 From grief that creeps to wreathe the
 Sun
 In drapes inwove with deathshed wing
 I thank God for the suffering

 Love would have conquered all
 Were we not parted
 Her splintered loss rekindles rage
 The winter frost dwindles across my
 Stage
 Lit up once more to score finales started

 Love would have conquered all
 Love would have conquered
 Hate