Текст песни MY DYING BRIDE - Symphonaire Infernus Et Spera Empyrium

The destroying genius of idols
Will shroud the world with utter lies
Dance the cobbles, his abode named Dis
Portraits have spoken their masters distress
Icons with kisses, tell me who have seen this
Failing Enochian tapestries
Depict the prince of fallen virtues
In almost poetic rhapsody
Masterbate to the sound of the knell
Источник https://alllyr.ru/song35151
The Patchetic stench of dying children
Perhaps our fall is certain
Limbs entwined in absolute contoursion

Please put off your veil
Your heart is blameless
And I shudder for knowing it

A hot May makes a fat churchyard
And Lychfowel breed in chaotic frenzy
Trauma bites hard the hearts of Kin
Swept away by a moments sadness
They say rage is a brief madness
By way of the beloveds farewell
Give back to nature what we first did take
And monuments would slowly fill
The agendas' of Kings and Queens
In silence our faces bleed
The holy voice torn away by the gale

Make yourself all honey and the flies will devour you

Love is a game where both players cheat
Gone is the tale of Hero and Leander
Women are angels yet wedlock's the devil
To have and to hold but death no longer parts
Harlots and sluts, whores of our world
Expose their stinking vaginas'
Many who have no will of their own
Hold their souls towards the sinister bloom
Are you rich oh lord of vanity
As you peddle your wears of cruelty
Dressed up so you look the part
So blind, it's ignorance you wear

Quite brutal beyond belief
Sores that weep their septic tears
Dragged out through war torn lifetimes
And death shall feast on us all

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