Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Cemetery and Sundown, artist - Cradle Of Filth. Album song Thornography, in the genre
Date of issue: 08.10.2006
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: The All Blacks
Song language: English
Cemetery and Sundown |
We rise with the sun in the underworld |
We suffer from a graveless name |
We prise wide lids |
And wounds with lips curled |
Over teeth that have tasted shame |
Cemetery and sundown |
Against the flora of nightfall |
We gather like the fauna of war |
To cure Aurora so spiteful |
With her stake in the coming of dawn |
To conjure forth the past |
Those heady nights of pain resplendent |
In the service of the Goddess of Death |
When her sheets ran royalty red |
Moon lengthen or crypt-kept silhouettes |
Shadows dance, eyes flicker in descent |
Unveil the greed, our needs are bitter, spent |
On upturned mouths and haunts of wickedness |
We walk this Eden, a secret |
Faces hidden under Leonine pride |
In dusk’s embrace |
We find it hard to keep it When blood and lust and waking worlds collide |
Too long have we skulked like drifters |
In the cities of the neon sun |
Vagabond dogs and graveyard shifters |
Mona Lisas where the paint has run |
I miss our glorious past |
Our nightly flights on fear dependent |
Like phantoms in the eaves for Miss Christine |
When the song bird broke her neck |
Wolves howl their fogbound serenades |
Churches arch their backs with balustrades |
Praise be to the shedding of masquerades |
When we hunt these vestal vermin unafraid |
Of the covenant made… |
Draw the blinds on the floors of raw meat |
There is murder in the thirst |
Rich red vascular tapestries |
Hung in gilded frames of nuns asleep |
In dreams where themes of bestiality |
Are a blessing on their Sunday sheep |
Sermons hang a black gown |
Over cemetery and sundown |
Now the clock is harrying midnight |
And the ghost of yet-to-come |
Will she show rewrites of dark delight |
Or the sewers we’ve overrun? |
I see a winter palace |
Cut diamonds at a porcelain neck |
When Swan Lake crushed poor sanity’s spirit |
As I threw her to it bled |
We rise with the sun in the underworld |
We suffer from a graveless name |
We prise wide lids |
And wounds with lips curled |
Over teeth that have tasted shame |
We walk this Eden, a secret |
Faces hidden under Leonine pride |
In dusk’s embrace |
We find it hard to keep it When blood and lust and waking worlds collide |