| Eclipsing violent centuries
|
| Like a dark scar over France
|
| Enter the nascent Gilles de Rais
|
| A warrior and a scholar
|
| He fought for Joan Of Arc
|
| Before she met with martyrdom in flames
|
| Far from fairytale
|
| A deathshead on his sail
|
| A light that would not fail
|
| Beneath her spell
|
| But the crucifix was veiled
|
| When his decadence prevailed
|
| In a drench of red regaled
|
| He was shat out of Hell
|
| Shat out of Hell
|
| Frozen in iniquity
|
| A passion for awe in an age of grief
|
| His wealth and power led him on To the tainted gates of Babylon
|
| Born beneath the howling stars
|
| In a shower of golden Lys
|
| A wolf-cub with the world between his sabre teeth
|
| Torn between extremes of faith
|
| The pious and the priests
|
| He fed the Devil children like he threw his mastiffs meat
|
| Far from fairytale
|
| The coffin and the nail
|
| Descending to the pale
|
| Under the spell
|
| Of alchemists who failed
|
| To clench the menstrual grail
|
| In a drench of red regaled
|
| He was shat out of 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 door
|
| Demanding pleasures to replace
|
| Joan Of Arc, her epic grace
|
| Had set aflame his wolfheart with her truth
|
| And when she died, his life of pride
|
| Was lost to God and in his crimes
|
| He turned to raising Satan with the proof
|
| Soon nightly, unsightly
|
| Offerings were made on a vulgar altar
|
| And slowly, but surely
|
| The darkness answered like a falling star
|
| Far from fairytale
|
| Insanity exhaled
|
| A full-blown winter gale
|
| Under it"s spell
|
| Innocents assailed
|
| Were entered and impaled
|
| In a drench of red regaled
|
| He was shat out of Hell
|
| Shat out of Hell
|
| Perverse, seductive, cruel as sin
|
| An egotist, he mourned
|
| Both war and glory, schooled to win
|
| Whatever bored imagination spawned |