Midian Lyrics Album by Cradle of Filth
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Album Lyrics
1. At the Gates of Midian
(Instrumental)
2. Cthulhu Dawn
Cthulhu dawn!
Spatter the stars,
douse their luminosity with our amniotic retch.
Promulgating the birth of another Hell on Earth,
shadows gather poisoned henna for the flesh.
A necrotic cattle-brand, the hissing downfall pentagram
carven deep upon the church doors of the damned.
But no pass-over is planned, a great renewal growls at hand,
and only when they’re running will they come to understand.
So ends the pitiful reign of man!
When the moon exhales behind a veil
of widowhood and clouds on a biblical scale,
we raise the stakes to silhouette the impaled crowds.
Within this kissed disembowel arena
a broken seal on an ancient curse
unleashes beasts from the seismic breach
with lightning reach and genocidal thirst.
Mountains of Archaos Theories
in collision as at planetary dawn.
Apocalypse’s razorbacks beat
wings on glass as thunder cracks,
unfurled across a world hurled to the black.
Cthulhu dawn!
Shatter the glass house
wherein spirits breathe out halitosis of the soul.
From a wrecking abscess, plague of far righteousness,
all fates hang in the balance mocking crucified dolls.
An inquisition outs when the sun goes out,
our powers will extend throughout Heaven like Asphodel,
as they have for countless lustrum in dark Midian
accustomed to burning effigies of our enemies well.
So begins the sibilant world death knell!
When a corpse wind howls and awakes from drowse
the scheming dead freed of gossamer shrouds,
we gorgonise eyes of the storm aroused red.
Blinding time all lines dine on this instance,
a melting spool of beggar negative frames.
The skies teem alive to watch die,
mankind hauled to fable in vast tenement graves.
Cthulhu dawn!
3. Saffron’s Curse
Through arcades where shimmering snowfall
lay in state with the sad and damned,
a rent lament barely flung above a whisper
drew me like a ghost to the haunts of man.
I found her tempting fate
between her wrist and razor,
a kindred spirit in a graveyard
beneath the stature of a colder saviour.
Mist hung like thieves wreathed in scant arabesques,
and through the chill earth it bedwed her drawling breast
like a come dream true under etched glass spent,
making love to the beautiful dead.
She has sinned and severed Heaven,
and in its vulgar sight two figures
writhe, but one silhouette extends
its fingers to the light.
“Gothic towers tottered on my heels
as I fled asylum grounds,
committing hard crimes to soft cells
where now another’s screams resound.”
From the gaspings in her passing
six feet under, or beneath frayed gown.
When her hands pointed to midnight
in a white stained chamber bound.
I swept her from the abyss of another dementia,
freeing her soul from the fetters of fate
to take the reins of pleasure.
Now nightwane mirrors freeze in seizure
at the glimpse of charmed pins in her thighs.
Ballrooms filled with black cats scratch
out of spite and playful eyes.
Pricked as a witch, her stitches itch
for familiar lips to lick them dry.
Whilst the dark regrasps, for if she asks,
the sun forsakes the rite to rise.
And is the first to discern that this
angel’s return is a vengeful call on grace,
for even martyrdom backs from its suicide pacts.
A leap of twisted fate betrayed!
The scars will last until the stars
caught in her train bewitched,
fall into line and yield the sign
that dawn in born to their eclipse.
For our inhumankind comes an
underdog day sunrise, rippling
with fire like femaledition.
Wind amidst the flame I gazed out
tapped into the fog and shared her pain,
when in her mind she sought his leave
and begged forgiveness.
I splintered her coffin and lay
on the floor of a vault with her
clasped as the moon hugs the shore.
What treachery this
that she breathed no more,
Christ you bastard!
I wished her back but the dead adored her,
even wild winds sang in chora for her.
Saffron from my heart, from the start I swore
we’d be together more!
Creation froze with the triumph of Death,
but still she stirred and awoke bereft
of concern save for the aeons left
to lead the darkness.
She schemes of growing power
and the lengths sucked hard to get it.
I dream of being God but ever
living to regret it.
Our fecund nature decrees
that Jesus wept come for
the Devil on her knees.
To grant her lows a remedy
and mine desire’s wish to
taste thereof of Heaven’s scent
as sick and twisted as it is.
For her corset laced with arsenic
hides snake curves within her midst.
Whilst her halo of white lies supplies
her temple to what God forbids.
4. Death Magick for Adepts
Come distortured artists,
bitter things seek meaning,
even if they’re madness to behold.
Once forebears to horizons
where the dead stayed dreaming,
now nightmares waken souls
that fear the living’s toll.
Gova, Bosch and Brueghel!
Three times moonwise stain thy graves,
for words alone are at loss to trace
the face of today’s inhuman wraith.
One half adrift in the vast
abyss of despair and misery,
the other a mask of rich red lips
whetted by the fevers of belief and greed.
All damned in this inferno
where even Virgil averts his eyes
from the black mass mutual gang rape
of ceasing hands and forced divides.
Trespass these seven gates
to a world bloodlet to shades.
Where Seraphim bleat of their cold
and coming master’s race.
In the sewers of Babylon
stillborn to a trough anon,
chimiracles will hatch like plots
to dredge faces to pearl their cross.
Enter Penteholocaust!
Five aeons past yet still man grasps
at final straws to save his cast.
His Lord is a leper we shall not want,
he betrayed us with white lies!
His acrid pall as of the tomb
reminds us how we rot inside.
Gutted like fool’s paradise,
glutted on cruel appetites!
Holding court to chaos,
folding to far graver arms.
A downfall fatal to all resounds
as orgies peak in self centred psalms.
And Nature screams her sufferings
under bowed and cankered wings,
a bleak scorched Earth Necrotica burning
like the robes we’ve torn from her!
She begs us lay her pain to rest,
lest we are left with nothingness
save for her stripped and ravished flesh.
And if her fate is not so portent of Apocalypse,
then the comets that graze night skies,
will surely cleanse of wrongs and Reichs
when you and I and all else dies.
It’s rotting down this
carcass Maggotropolis!
Interdependent as worms to the grave,
Allah’s true name is naught, Chist cannot save.
Locked in a waltz of evermore frantic steps,
spells of regret, Death Magick for adepts.
Be prepared to fulfill prophecies,
the glorious fall of a sin dynasty.
Gutted on cruel appeitites,
gutted like fool’s paradise!
“We’ve woven hearts a thorn arbour
left tear streaked reason upon the shore.
And bereft of compass, star or more,
set out for this world’s end.
Few at the prow most slave below
painting coal, a perfect gold.
But for all it’s worth the engines slow.
Dead in the brine again!
Come cabin fever, sodomy on the Bounty!
Prey to phallus seas that hiss
and foam to douse disease,
a storm roars on the way.
Blacker than the ace of rapes
dealt out by Death in darkwood glades.
Our Ship of Fools, all boards handmade, sinks.
Dashed by seismic waves.”
5. Lord Abortion
“Care for a little necrophilia, hmm?”
I was born with a birthmark of cinders,
Debris cast from the stars and mother.
A ring of bright slaughter, I spat in the waters
of life that ran slick from the stabwounds in her.
Dub me Lord Abortion, the living dead!
The bonesaw on the backseat on
this bitter night of giving head.
A sharp rear entry, an exit in red!
Lump in the throat, on my cum choke
the killing joke worn thin with breath.
I grew up on the sluts
bastard father beat blue.
Keepsake cunts cut full out
easing puberty through.
Aah, Nostalgia grows!
Now times nine or ten within
this vice den called a soul.
Dying for resurrection
I dig deep to cum again,
the spasm of orgasm on a roll.
I live the slow serrated rape,
the bucks fizz of amyl nitrate.
Victims force fed their own face,
tear stains upon the drape.
I should compare them to a warm
Summer’s day, but to the letter it is
better to lichen their names to a grave!
Counting my years on an abacus strung,
with labial rings and heartstrings undone.
Dub me Lord Abortion, the living dead!
The bonesaw on the backseat on
this bitter night of giving head.
A sharp rear entry, an exit in red!
Lump in the throat, on my cum choke
the killing joke worn thin with breath.
Horrorscopes my diorama,
a twelve part psychodrama!
Another chained I mean to harm
her inside as well as out.
A perverts gasp inside the mask,
I’m hard blow my house of cards.
All turn up Death, her bleeding starts
in brute vermilion parts.
Now I slither through the hairline cracks,
in sanity best watch your back.
Possessed with levering Hell’s Gates wide,
liberating knives to cut humanity slack.
My ambition is to slay anon
a sinner in the hands of a dirty God,
who lets me prey, a Gilles De Rais
of light where faith leads truth astray.
I slit guts and free the moistest faces,
corrupt the corpse and seize the choicest pieces.
Her alabaster limbs that dim the lit carnal grin,
vaginal skin to later taste and masturbate within.
My heart was a wardrum beat by
jugular cults in eerie jungle vaults.
When number thirteen fell in my lap,
lips and skin like sin, a Venus mantrap.
My appetite whetted storm crows wheeled at the
blurred edges or reason ’til I was fulfilled.
Whors d’oeuvres eaten I tucked her into a grave
coffin fit for the queen of spades.
She went out like the light in my mind,
her face an avalanche of pearl of ruby wine.
Much was a flux but the mouth once good for fucks came
from retirement to prove she had not lost her touch.
I kissed her viciously, maliciously, religiously,
but when has one been able to best separate the three?
I know I’m sick as Dahmer did but this is what I do.
Aah, aah, ahh, I’ll let you sleep when I am through!
You fucking Whore!
The suspect shadow sher they least
expect my burning grasp to reach.
The stranglehold, the opened arms
seeking sweet meat with no holes barred.
Rainbows that my razors wrung
midst her screams and seams undone,
sung at the top of punctured lungs.
I bite my spiteful tongue!
Lest curses spat from primal lairs,
freeze romance where angels bare
are lost to love, bloodloss, despair.
I weep, they merely stare and stare,
and stare, and stare, and stare!
6. Amor e Morte
Her bouquets are wilted, too long has she slept.
Their cruel red mouths darkened to bowed silhouettes.
I saw in a new moon with her scent on my breath,
but then all to soon came the hunger for flesh.
I held her in eyes like Necropoli,
laying her on a tomb with a view.
Lighting her from her feet to
the stars in her hair.
Drove sweet blood to her throat,
and my lips parted there.
In the tone of splintered bone
she screams benighted, my limbs ignite.
A carnal carnivore on all fours to go!
An ebon Nemesis from torture gardens of Dis
having never breathed an eve as far narcotic as this.
Two spellbound Hellhounds hearts pounding loud,
racing Heaven out of focus under quicksilver clouds.
God is maimed, come let us prey!
To lunar deities that pave dead ways
twixt the living and the grave.
Amor e Morte!
To cast our feral shadows there
we made love, bleed on a deathbed shared,
where begging me to feed to best be were.
I licked her wounds and ate her rare!
Argentinum spurred her watnon words incurred,
a sin ridden tongue to open trading in fur.
Never were those gates of pearl so rubbed to their cusp,
never were the worlds above so bitten with the bestial.
Seraphim fell like guillotines,
giving gracious head instead
of harking prophecies.
And how our brother sang:
Amor e Morte!
Theirs was a chorus for raucous souls,
shifting shape and lifting napes
to commemorate erotic stains.
Amor e Morte!
Unfasten thy masque, come skyclad to my arms,
leave thy gown a dark pool at thy feet.
I yearn musky valleys that no man hath seen,
the chill keen of stars over yew and deep wooded ravines.
A hidden meridian where Midian may be!
In black antlered glades,
encunted in this forest Goddess
She whispers my name, I buck under flames,
animal nitrates howling through my veins.
I ride riptides that wrest and writhe to the fore,
new lusts eclipsing lips that brought me to this verge of war,
with inner beasts unleashed to feast, fuck and run.
Rampart in chase of she-wolf pacts, forged on heat with setting suns.
I love the night,
it would murder my soul
should I ever fall blind.
For though thy flesh haunts
I keep also in mind the
stampede of clouds from
dusk’s predatory sky.
Purple versed like the funeral hearse
that first turned thee over to my
unbridled kiss when I found thee in mist,
dressed for the sepulchre.
My Demon bride!
God is maimed, come let us prey!
To lunar deities that pave dead ways
twixt the living and the grave.
Amor e Morte!
Ours was a chorus for raucous souls,
shifting shape and lifting napes
to commemorate erotic stains.
Amor e Morte!
7. Creatures That Kissed in Cold Mirrors
(Instrumental)
8. Her Ghost in the Fog
“The moon she hangs like a cruel portrait,
soft winds whisper the bidding of trees.
As this tragedy starts with a shattered glass heart,
and the Midnightmare trampling of dreams.
But oh, no tears please!
Fear and pain may accompany Death.
But it is desire that shepherds it’s
certainty, as we shall see…”
She was Divinity’s creature
that kissed the cold mirrors,
a queen of snows!
Far beyond compare,
lips attuned to symmetry
sought her everywhere.
Dark liqoured eyes,
an arabian nightmare!
She shone on watercolours
of my pondlife as pearl,
until those who couldn’t have her
cut her free of this world!
That fateful eve when the
trees stank of sunset and camphor,
their lanterns chased phantoms and threw an
inquisitive glance like the shadows they cast
on my love picking rue by the light of the moon.
Putting reason to flight, or to death as their way.
They crept through woods mesmerized
by the taffeta ley of her hips that held sway
over all they surveyed.
Save a mist on the rise,
a deadly blessing to hide.
Her ghost in the fog!
They raped and left,
five men of God,
her ghost in the fog!
Dawn discovered her there
beneath the cedar’s stare.
Silk dress torn her raven hair
flown to gown her beauty bared,
was starred with frost, I knew her lost.
I wept ’til tears crept back to prayer.
She’d sworn me vows in fragrant blood
never to part lest jealous Heaven
stole our hearts.
Then this I screamed,
“Come back to me for I
was born in love with thee,
so why should fate stand in between?”
And as I drowned her gentle curves
with dreams unsaid and final words
I espied a gleam trodden to earth,
the church bell tower key.
The village mourned her by the by,
for she’d been a witch
their men had longed to try.
And I broke under Christ,
seeking guilty signs
my tortured soul on ice.
A queen of snow!
Far beyond compare,
lips attuned to symmetry
sought her everywhere.
Trappistine eyes,
an arabian nightmare!
She was Erzulie possessed
of a milky white skin.
My porcelain yin,
a graceful angel of sin.
So for her the breeze stank of sunset and camphor!
My lantern chased her phantom and blew their chapel
ablaze and all locked in to a pain best reserved
for judgement that their bible construed!
Putting reason to flight, or to flame unashamed,
I swept form cries mesmerized
by the taffeta ley, or her hips that held sway
over all those at bay.
Save a mist on the rise,
a final blessing to hide
her ghost in the fog!
And I embraced,
where lovers rot,
her ghost in the fog!
Her ghost in the fog!
9. Satanic Mantra
Archangel, Dark Angel,
lend me thy light through
Death’s veil ’til we have
Heaven in sight…
10. Tearing the Veil from Grace
Biblical choirs soar beyond veiled light,
a swansong for ravens trapped flapping in night.
A tragic yet magical fall from grace.
Too awful to taste for the led and the chaste,
those whose long fetters are addressed to all saints.
Free shining souls torn from God’s given Reich.
Defiled, reviled, exiled from sight.
And Hell knows we sought victory, chancing the leash.
But when bad die were cast we were cast down to die,
a steeple of needles thrust into our eyes.
So scholars might say we were blinded
by pride like the sins of our Father,
whom in Isaiah and Midian thrived regaining
his sights for the storming of skies.
And after descenturies have crawled vilified
our dark harkened day on spread wing now arrives.
For Eternity is a coprophagic backward
figure head gorging on her own bitter end.
And we have eaten shit until we’re close to addicts,
now grime is running out for us to make amends.
To retake what once was lost,
to exalt our throne above the stars of God!
“To throw our fuck into gates
and guts of a severed Neverland.
Where we, the damned, once pleasured ran
like seamen from the phallus sea.”
Atrocious Oceans must be crossed to
exalt our throne above the stars of God!
The thirteenth sign of the Zodiac climbs
cowled and scythed to snuff the sunrise.
To snuff the sunrise!
Throwing shades of war before like prophecy.
Night breed freed from the vasty deep,
nasty reap of freaks forsaken!
And when sultry dusk disrobes,
they’ll learn she is not a natural blond.
For the lower she goes the darker it grows,
an Eve that blows on her knees for Satan!
Fellated Satan!
Screams congeal in clotted pearl
as he unfurls from aching hibernation!
Stormbringer drums thunder to full Dis orchestra as
lighting streaks with fire, black clouds that shroud the Earth.
Whose cold breasts have held us in scar pillories
but now the sun is loath to come, the crescent moon is freed.
Elated Satan!
The scimitar slash to the under gash
of Heaven too slight for penetration.
We strike as wolves from the thickening fog
to exalt our throne over the stars of God!
Lowly holy goats bare the brunt of
rabid dogmas on a stellar bearhunt.
Bastioned in the citadels and monastic
cells that smell of blessed cunt!
Like a convent where crosses rust
from thirty dirty habits of shaved nun.
There where deeper needs are begged of lust,
and cess and less impress enough.
Obtaining the Lord of our Guardian Anger!
And Death’s tunnel vision, bad things in collision,
the locking of eyes and jagged antler.
Unpicking the seams of fate sewn over dreams,
feasting from throats of celestial thieves.
And God knows we seek victory,
now that we are unleashed to drive nails
home of blind faith through those who
drove us from error to terror below.
Refugees clung to a crown furred in flies
tarred with red honey, the plaster
of many a spire that aspired to rise,
seeking Messiahs that by us soon die.
In the start like a cast in morality plays,
our hearts wore a mask of dead rooks in the rain.
The world was our cloister, no prayer bent in shame,
our once lucent plumage stung with horn withered grey.
And away…
As Aeons slew so we grew to myth revenge accrued to a monolith,
bursting through from our roofed abyss like an aether greased fist.
Now vulvite gates are so sorely missed, our horror pours through the orifice
where once the spheres and Archangels kissed, Phallelujah!
Fellated Satan!
His coming assails
the night in gales
that bewail turned tides
that engulf their nation.
Fuckers!
Now divinity is a worm ridden mouth
in a darkened high house overrun by disease.
So let the truth be wrung from veil and sanctum undone
that the banished ones intent on reinstatement have won.
We breathe by virtue of their rot,
now our souls exult above the stars of…
Stars of God!
11. Tortured Soul Asylum
“Oh sweet Midian, I burn for thee at heart!
Don’t despair me, Come bare me on wings
of graveyard robbed leather to where pleasure
rings deep secrets in spurts after dark.”
Under full moons waxing lyrically,
Death’s poetry floods the soul like
the freezing seed of a demon freed
to curse the stars with vertigo.
And in their dance in trance I’ve prised wide,
slick rifts twixt obsidian thighs.
Hymeneal gates to darker sides,
a glimpse of plinths where Midian lies.
Midian!
Haunted by this portent,
this obsession in my mind.
With a city sunk below tall
cedar groves and graves sublime.
Sporting their importance
marble wings spread to the skies,
a vale of dreams that it would seem
the daylights race to leave behind.
These visions struck like a furious fuck
nailing wet lips to cold cemetery walls.
Flashes of lust to dust!
Splashed across my psychic pall
as hybrid lovers reached their cusp,
with final thrusts I saw it all!
Forbidden Midian,
a long fabled Judecca.
A sanctuary for sin!
You rival Heaven above
Heaven’s tragic wreck!
Small mercies in vistas of dolmen and vault,
gaunt haunched edifices midst lightfingered mists.
From whence more awful shadows drew back rusted bolts,
and dared a threshold the searing sun had knelt to kiss.
Shades of dusk, cruelty and myth,
the tribes of Christ will not forgive,
and shall not suffer its kind to live!
For I, mesmerized, started not from tombs,
or their waltz so sibilant through the gathering gloom!
But from flumes of the moon in bloom, baring each
a face effaced and raped in the womb!
In hidden Midian,
a Vatican lying in state
for the sanctity of sin.
To rival Heaven free of
Eden’s tragic wreck!
Small mercies in vistas where dolmen and vault,
caught twisted whispers where fisted sisters haunched.
Flaunted orifice midst lighter fingered mists, whilst I
watched without revolt carnalities few beasts permit.
Between the dog and wolf
bared fangs met in intercourse,
a nightly rite of teeth and cunt
for those below who rose to hunt.
Soar sights that preyed on me for days,
and in laudenum’s haze I painted them all.
The slew of Sith and kin.
I drew in blood, my veins in thrall
to Deathugees at peace within.
Grotesques and wolves in women’s skins,
the raven winged and missing limb.
Suicides and split-thighed Seraphim,
and marble stairs stargrazers dare
ascend like prayer!
Under full moons waxing lyrically
Death’s poetry floods the sou like
the freezing seed of a demon freed
to curse the stars with vertigo.
And in their dance in trance I’ve prised wide,
slick rifts twixt obsidian thighs.
Hymeneal gates to other sides,
a labyrinth wherein Midian hides!
Midian!
I know I’ve seen through
the black backed mirrors in sanity,
lucent prides amassed in last retreat.
Prurient souls but no more freaks than those
leashing dreams at harm’s length from me.
And just like grim ascension prophecies
my revenge carved deep will be a grisly plot that reads
like my filthy white ward spattered with their screams
when my Deviliverers come from fog for me.
Please come for me!
Exhuming the moon through the bars in my room,
the sooner the bitter pills swallowed are through.
But no Genotypes, Aphrodites, Demon archetypes,
no Cenobites rise to clame me from you!
No!
No! No! No! No!
Don’t leave here in
this storm weathered cell!
No!
No! No! No! No!
With prophets and losses,
and dead men from crosses
my fate is a preview of derelict Hell!
Midian!
Midian!
Midian Sample – Youtube Video
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