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The byronic man (feat. ville valo)

par Cradle Of Filth

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As lonely as a poet on the wall of Jericho
Or the moon without the comfort of the stars
I am loathe to know it that a man without a soul
Is nothing but a split canopic jar

I proved it, improved it
Drove a sonnet right through it
And in this state of bliss
Evil kissed with wet lips
Pen-filled fingertips
Which drew me, for through me
Illuminati usually pissed
But with words of some hurts worth
I threw a party that extended God´s list

Exciting new flames that my fame would claim for me
Reciting back the almanac of travesties

They call me bad
Mad Caliban with manner
Dangerous to know
A passing fad
Taught in all debauch
In excess and in canto

Grown wild this child
Whole harems defiled
Faustina´s and Mina´s
Lady Libertine and her sisters between her

What spread of lies arise when lovers die
Which circle of hell is mine when I arrive?

They call me bad
Mad Caliban with manners
Dangerous to know
A passing fad
Taught in all debauch
Crow against the virgin snow

Grown colder, my shoulder
Like a boulder beside her
And bolder, not wiser
My dark seed took up root inside he
That mouldered, where older

Beddings would hold a passionate sigh
But laudanum and soda
Lord Numb coda
Merited a forest of inherited spite

Fleeing grief for foreign maps
I still played vampire aristocrat
Unloading my gun in hot, promiscuous laps

Then shooting swans in a gondola
I tripped my foot on a fallen star
And there´s nothing like a mouthful of Venetian tar
To let you know just who you fucking are

[Ville:]
The patron saint of heartache
You can´t see my world is falling
The world is falling down
The patron saint of heartache
Can´t see the world is falling
My world is falling down

[Dani and Ville:]
Ever after, can they hear my laughter?
The patron saint of heartache
Never craft a better bed of disaster...
The patron saint of heartache

They call me bad
Made Caliban with manners
Dangerous to know
A passing fad
Taught in all debauch
In excess and in canto

They call me bad
Mad Caliban with manners
Dangerous to know
A passing fad
Whereupon I tell them
To go fuck their mothers
As so...
On my grave
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