paroles de chanson Cheerful Dirge - Theatre of Tragedy
Hap
mirthfulness
Oh,
joy
of
grand
riddance
Undress
me
my
hauberk
The
wyvern
hath
erranted
Ire
of
yore,
bard
of
ever
years
I
deem
the
brood
hath
waned
forever
more
Fro
the
chasm
of
the
bosom,
bale
I
hand
back
Hark,
my
dove,
henceforth
I
bulwark
thee
Feathers
of
swans
in
my
pillow
I
cede
my
heart
Make
haste,
I
pray
Respond
my
plea
Lo,
a
sire
of
great
awe
A
knight
of
many
battles
And
of
kinsmen
weeping
for
the
slain
Please,
heed
my
words
In
thy
sorrow,
I
will
kiss
thy
tears
In
thy
bliss,
I
will
take
thee
by
thy
hand
The
sapor
of
grapes
thou
shalt
savor
And
harken
the
nightingale
sing
oh
so
blithely
Oh,
on
his
knees,
a
plea
to
harvest
roses
No
heed
for
the
thorns
yon
count
Wherefore
vow
me
with
this
gilded
proffer?
Wherefore
not
pay
court
to
a
maid
more
fair?
Morn
of
a
joyous
day,
hower
′twixt
weed
Fertile
desert,
cheerful
dirge
Misery
me
not,
man
nor
beast
envy
me
Lest
'tis
an
act
of
wont
Many
are
the
drapes
that
my
past
bury
Ineffable
feeling
indulgeth
in
battles
′Tisn't
what
thou
vambracest
thy
words
with
(forgive
me
for)
I
bethink
dotingly
only
thy
weal
(deeming
thee
direfully)
There
abiding
with
thee
(yet,
I
was
a
trifle
daunted)
Is
for
me
the
grandest
boon
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