Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Shat Out of Hell, artist - Cradle Of Filth. Album song Godspeed On The Devil's Thunder, in the genre
Date of issue: 23.10.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: The All Blacks
Song language: English
Shat Out of Hell |
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 |