Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Epistle No. 81, artist - Candlemass. Date of issue: 13.01.2008
Song language: English
Epistle No. 81 |
| Mark how our shadow, Mark Movits mom frere |
| One small darkness encloses |
| How gold and purple that shovel there |
| To rags and rubbish disposes |
| Charon beckons from tumultuous waves |
| Then trice this ancient digger of graves |
| For thee ne’er grapeskin shall glister |
| Wherefore my Movits come help me to raise |
| A gravestone over our sister |
| Even desirous and modest adobe |
| Under the sighing branches |
| Where time and death, a marriage forebode |
| Twixt beauty and ugliness ashes |
| To thee ne’er jealousy findeth her way |
| Nor happiness footstep, swift to stray |
| Flitteth amid these barrows |
| E’en enmity armed, as thou seest this day |
| Piously breaketh her arrow |
| The little bell echoes the great bells groan |
| Robed in the door the precentor |
| Noisome with quiristers prayerful moan |
| Blesses those, who enter |
| The way to this templed city of tombs |
| Climbs amid roses yellowing blooms |
| Fragments of mouldering biers |
| Till black-clad each mourner, |
| His station assumes |
| Bows there deeply in tears |