Cradle of Filth - Born In A Burial Gown

Sibilant and macabre
Walpugis sauntered in
Skies litten with five-pointed stars
The work of crafts surpassing sin
As she graced her window ledge
And orphaned gypsy nymph
This issue of the forests bed
Skin flushed with sipped absinthe
Her eyes revealed as Brockens peak
Tried once concealing hell
And a snow white line of divine freaks
In riot where they fell

The cirvus lurches in a ring of promised delight
For seven days and seven festival nighst
What wicked wonders lie within the confines
Of the panthers den

She watches from a maypole on the tip of her tongue
The restless spirit of a christmas to come
A gretel sick of merely sucking her thumb
Than gingerbread man

Spawned, scorned, abhorred by the aerial
She was the light of the world going dowm
War-torn, forlorn and malarial
She was found
Born in a burial gown

Unloosed, the chain of her god-given cross
Seduced, now pagan ribbons swathe her reposs
In a carnival of souls sold and similarly lost

Too many decades misfit and mislaid
In innocence, a tender legend of prey
Parades her second-coming, now they're running afraid

Spawned, scorned, abhorred by the aerial
She was the light of the world going dowm
War-torn, forlorn and malarial
She was found
Born in a burial gown

Now she moves with a predators guile
Beyond the firelit circle of life
She soothes your cold heart for a while
Then matches its beat synching in with a knife
She wrestles her dreams with a delicate ease
Espied by her cross on the wall
And shouls she awake, through embrace or mistake
She would take Jesus
Blest foot forward and all

Sibilant and at last
The circus crawled away
With another lover in its amrs
Dancing on her grave