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My Dying Bride
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Turn Loose The Swans
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Current song lyrics
So little of what we observe, is the girl herself.<br />Elaborate, scented coiffers.<br />Adieu d'amour.<br />Vast is the heirs ballroom.<br />Let the rich give you presents.<br />Heaven pours from her throat, as she sings and as she dances.<br />The fumes of rich swine, honeyglazed and dripping, playing in the air.<br />My mouth eager and wishing.<br />But I return to this nightingale.<br />Her hair all fiery red.<br />Deep it is and wild.<br />my weakness will be fed.<br />Boys whipped on the alter of diana, sometimes until they died.<br />The cunning wily merchant, and his four crippled horses.<br />Tales told in warlike manner.<br />The storyteller by the fire .<br />While musing deeply on this sight, the songster stirred my desire.<br />You are sweet and fine to listen to.<br />Long tresses about her neck.<br />Yet much is false.<br />This mighty evening, I've seen no face.<br />This is crushing me.<br />My quill it aches.<br />Turn loose the swans that drew my poets craft.<br />I'll dwell in desolate cities.<br />You burned my wings.<br />I leave this ode, splendid victorious through the carnage.<br />I wanted to touch them all.<br />I wanted to touch them all.
New song lyrics
So little of what we observe, is the girl herself.<br />Elaborate, scented coiffers.<br />Adieu d'amour.<br />Vast is the heirs ballroom.<br />Let the rich give you presents.<br />Heaven pours from her throat, as she sings and as she dances.<br />The fumes of rich swine, honeyglazed and dripping, playing in the air.<br />My mouth eager and wishing.<br />But I return to this nightingale.<br />Her hair all fiery red.<br />Deep it is and wild.<br />my weakness will be fed.<br />Boys whipped on the alter of diana, sometimes until they died.<br />The cunning wily merchant, and his four crippled horses.<br />Tales told in warlike manner.<br />The storyteller by the fire .<br />While musing deeply on this sight, the songster stirred my desire.<br />You are sweet and fine to listen to.<br />Long tresses about her neck.<br />Yet much is false.<br />This mighty evening, I've seen no face.<br />This is crushing me.<br />My quill it aches.<br />Turn loose the swans that drew my poets craft.<br />I'll dwell in desolate cities.<br />You burned my wings.<br />I leave this ode, splendid victorious through the carnage.<br />I wanted to touch them all.<br />I wanted to touch them all.
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