A Rose for the Dead EP Lyrics (1997)

Theatre of Tragedy A Rose for the Dead EP Lyrics Album

A Rose for the Dead EP Lyrics Album by Theatre of Tragedy

Welcome to the best site to read A Rose for the Dead EP Lyrics, This Album was released on the year 1997 by the band Theatre of Tragedy

1. A Rose for the Dead

Oh – my dearest; the sweet music in the air –
Albeit, daresay I, the lullaby of an everso dark sleep.

My precious,
Likest thou what emergeth yon the distant?
The throbbing and breathing of life’s machinery!

Wanion its oh so damndest soul!
With the devil-instrument it we shall reap,
After the banquet obscur’d in our thole,
Its blood so lovingly across our faces smear

Lord of carnage,

Lady of carnage,

One funeral maketh many,

Swarm God’s acres;

Two indeed more:
Blest treat of delight –

Give praise for the blood it bled,
Grant a rose for the dead!
Grant a rose for the dead!

Enraptur’d by the timeless beauty of the shadowsphere,
We two abide the overlook’d time of the watch.

Make this cherish’d feast last
But until the new dawn ascendeth.

Be still – harken the lure of night!
Bale in each its damndest shadow,
Clothe me in night, ne’er feel rue,
In its face, behold! naught save grue.

Pray, ne’er come hither daylight!
Wane to dust the wight,
Velvet darkness, thee we ourselves bestow!
Misery it in velvet fright

2. Der Spiegel

Der spiegel,
In dem ich die schatten seh’;
Das schwarze licht, welches mein schloß verschließt
Und draußen, der teufel und die schwarze hexe:
Singendes, tanzendes ihm verfallenes wesen.
Hörst du denn nicht wie der wolf heult?!,
Doch das blut sprengt meine adern –
Jeder strahl führt mich dem untergang näher:
Ich spüre, wie berauscht ich bin,
Die sonne scheint nie wieder diesem spiegel,
Der mond aber leuchtet meinem körper;
Staub – ich trinke das verfluchte wasser,
Blut – ich liebte diesen rosengarten,
Ich krieche durch diese spitzen dornen,
Mein geist lebt in der dunkelheit –
Schwarz; – das nichts; – unendlich;
Erbe des bösen –
Gott klopft an meine tür,
Und der spiegel

3. As the Shadows Dance

My eyes hold the eventide,
Albeit behind the eyes thou hast
Thro’ which I ‘hold naught else
A flame enshroudéd in its blackness;
But the raven;
Burning without the faintest breeze.
Sleep my dearest ones –
Teach me, dearest, the reason wherefore
Mind not the palling velvet darkness
Thou by such angst mark’d art?!

Wherefore is here loneliness?;
Infinite hollowness
In which my thoughts echo,
To the shadows I whisper –
With the shadows I waltz –
Bear me; I am not the plague,
Altho’ nightclad death … mayhap?!

Dare not naysaying my grant;
Dance no longer with the shadows,
Vanish with me abaft the unlight! –
Dance no longer with the dead in the graveyard;
O! the taste on thine lips;
Dance with me the mephisto waltz.
A trickling deep red love –
Wedlock ‘twixt day and night –
Everlasting lightheartédness –
Offer me relief fro the sunrays.
A kiss for thee my dear.

Ah! such delight I sense:
Eternally and ne’erendingly;
Savour the bitter grapes of life!
A soulsister of thine i am.

Let me openly greet thy kiss;
The most loving and caring bites.

Grant me thineself!,
I bore the woe in my heart,
My heart was shatter’d into its tithe,
As I depart embrace me,
Save yet are its chambers in flood.
And in paltry time will I re-awake –
I love thee.

4. And When He Falleth (Remix)

“Be my kin free from carnal sin,
Bridle the thoughts of thy Master.”
“There hath past away a glore fro the Earth;
A glore that in the hearts and minds of men,
Men dementéd – blindfoldéd by light,
Nourisheth as weed in their well-groom’d garths.”

“Might I too was blindfoldéd ere,
“The quality of mercy and absolution,
Tho’ years have master’d me
Whence cometh such qualities?
A masque of this to fashion:
Build thyself a mirror in which
Seer blest, thou best philosopher!”
Solely wanton images of thy desire appear!”

“‘Tis the Divine Comedy –
“‘Tis the Divine Tragedy –
The fool and the mocking court;
The fool and the mocking court;
Fool, kneel now, and ring thy bells!
Fool, kneel now, and ring thy bells!
We hold the Earth fro Heaven away.”
Make us guffaw at thy futile follies,
Yet for our blunders – Oh, in shame;
Earth beareth no balm for mistakes –
We hold the Earth fro Hell away.”


[Male Voice]
That cross you wear around your neck;
is it only a decoration, or are you a
true Christian believer?

[Female Voice]
Yes, I believe – truly.

Then I want you to remove it at once!
– and never to wear it within this castle
again! Do you know how a falcon is trained my
dear? Her eyes are sewn shut. Blinded temporarily
she suffers the whims of her God patiently, until
her will is submerged and she learns to serve –
as your God taught and blinded you with

You had me take off my cross because it

It offended no-one. No – it simply appears
to me to be discourteous to… to wear
the symbol of a deity long dead.
My ancestors tried to find it. And to open
the door that separates us from our Creator.

But you need no doors to find God.
If you believe….

Believe?! If you believe you are…gullible.
Can you look around this world and believe
in the goodness of a god who rules it?
Famine, Pestilence, War, Disease and Death!
They rule this world.

There is also love and life and hope.

Very little hope I assure you. No. If a god
of love and life ever did exist…he is long
since dead. Someone…something rules in his

“Believe? In a deity long dead? –
I would rather be a pagan suckléd in creeds outworn;
Whith faärytales fill’d up in head;
Thoughts of the Book stillborn.”

“Shadow of annoyance –
Ne’er come hither!
…And when He falleth, He falleth like Lucifer,
Ne’er to ascend again…”

5. Black as the Devil Painteth (Remix)

An artist is what is call’d the self that the brush holdeth –
Though hath it then caringly caress’d the Canvas of to-morrow?,
O Canvas! for thee I hold my tool – still! passionless it quivereth,
Minding not that my hands are more than apt;
My Muse,

Where is hidden
The blue-huéd arch’neath the High Heaven’s rich emblazonry,
The flowery meadow, embrac’d by the horizon – snowflakéd and aery mountains,
In which the barebreastéd maidens dance to the lay o’ midsummer,
Aloft the distant lazy flapping of the doves in vainglore.

O Canvas!, wherefore canst thou these images not allow? –
I deem a projection of my Theatre they should be! –
Then, I challenge thee the wisdom of naysaying the yearns o’ mine –
What is this unforseen that not enjoineth light shades to be skillfully paintéd?

The raven sky prey’d on by the snowfill’d, blustery clouds,
Unadornéd the meadow – hunger driveth the wolf out of the wood,
The maidens chainéd and whippéd within a dreary dungeon –
And, lo! ‘twixt the wizen roses a mossy grave:
“The Devil is as Black as he Painteth” –
O Canvas! wherefore?…

6. Decades (Joy Division cover)

Here are the young men, the weight on their shoulders,
Here are the young men, well where have they been?
We knocked on the doors of hell’s darker chamber,
Pushed to the limit, we dragged ourselves in,
Watched from the wings as the scenes were replaying,
We saw ourselves now as we never had seen.
Portrayal of the trauma and degeneration,
The sorrows we suffered and never were free.

Where have they been?
Where have they been?
Where have they been?
Where have they been?

Weary inside, now our heart’s lost forever,
Can’t replace the fear, or the thrill of the chase,
Each ritual showed up the door for our wanderings,
Open then shut, then slammed in our face.

Where have they been?
Where have they been?
Where have they been?
Where have they been?

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