Tekster:
Cradle Of Filth Godspeed On The Devil S Thunder

from the lavish tracts of paradise From Heaven's shored poured to the sore divide The moon was black Devil may care Their thunder sundered all his

Hell Shat out of Hell Grown so morbid without war The wine corrupted, nightmares spored His Lord's betrayal, played no more He beat upon the Devil's

: 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

ran helter-skelter His bedchamber besieged By phantoms who sheltered In it's furs, remorse Sought to overwhelm him Like a lantern of disease That shone on

from the lavish tracts of paradise From Heaven's shored poured to the sore divide The moon was black Devil may care Their thunder sundered all his

from it's terrorizing? Where will you be my darling? Where will you be when the dark is rising? Burning was the sunset like a portent of doom On the

and dark A paradise, a cradle free of filth She was chaste beyond all graces The face of faith illuminated More precious than Prelati's spell A Goddess

On the saintly iron maiden as she fell from her wound But visions and ambition Never listened to submission And she was on a mission from the highest

the walls Chambers and vaults, Scenes of fright Unspoken Words, in pain and dread 140 lives passed his hands Gilles De Ray's... The perverted son The