Cradle Of Filth - The Death Of Love

[Narration by Doug Bradley:]
Her penultimate sighs.
Called softy on the kindling wind.
Her saintly eyes filling with tears, lifting with truth.
And then a golden flash like the onset of Heaven.
Leaving her screams breaking my heart.
And in the grip of fire.
I knew the death of love.

Where will you be when they tense for warfare?
What will you see with your innocence there?
Where will you be my darling?
Where will you be when they tense for warfare?

Where will you be when God is glorifying?
There we will be between the dead and dying.
Where will you be my darling?
Where will you be when God is glorifying?

Prophecies and glory forge a massive disdain.
For lying passive in the shadows whilst the enemy reigns.
Devoted to the votive, holy standard above.
'By command of the king of Heaven'.
Came the death of love.

Where will you be when they're vilifying?
How will they see when the truth is blinding?
Where will you be my darling?
Where will you be when they're vilifying?

Where will you be when the dark is rising?
How will you keep from it's terrorizing?
Where will you be my darling?
Where will you be when the dark is rising?

Burning was the sunset like a portent of doom.
On the saintly iron maiden as she fell from her wound.

But visions and ambition.
Never listened to submission.
And she was on a mission from the highest above.
To Lord upon the slaughter.
Like a sword through hissing water.
She arose where archers sought her.
For the death of love.

The righteous death of love.

Gilles adored her drama.
Her suit of pure white armour.
Blazed against the English in a torrent of light.

And as they rallied onto night.
A cancer fled his soul.
Dissolving...

Framed amid the thick of fire.
Aflame, a Valkyrie.
She made him click without desire.
And in his eyes she swam a Goddess.

And even when they caught her breath.
Her words would leave a scar.
'For only in the grip of darkness.
Will we shine amidst the brightest stars'.

How will you breathe when their wheels are turning?
How will you know if the sky is burning?
Where will you be my darling?
How will you breathe when their wheels are turning?

Where will you be when Babel builds my fire?
Will you not flee and label me pariah?
Where will you be my darling?
Where will you be when they light my pyre?

Aligned with Joan in all.
That was enthroned and divine.
He swore to score the crimes.
Jackdaws poured on this dove.
Crimes he knew alone.
Derived from minds of the blind.
The church unfurled for murder perched.
Upon the death of love.

Framed amid the thick of fire.
Aflame, a Valkyrie.
She claimed the skies were lit with spires.
And in his eyes she swam a Goddess.

And even when she fought for breath.
Her words would leave a scar.
'For only in the grip of darkness.
Will we shine amidst the brightest stars'.