Текст песни Beneath the Howling Stars (Remixed and Remastered) - Cradle of Filth

Midwinter wrongs the rites of spring,
Her spinal chill rakes the earth.
Whilst pensive souls at zero sing,
Woebetidings of rebirth.
Under cold stares of Mars maligned,
Near-suicides cross their hearts.
And unborns writhe in tepid brine,
For something wicked this way starts.
Beneath the howling stars!
Elizabeth, paragon of vice,
Watches the sun set pyres alight.
As bane and tyranny, her dobermans sleep,
Like spellbound paramours at her feet.
A chatter of bells without,
Raise hellhounds, teeth on edge.
From sleighs hastened through snow lit red,
Guests espied from the garret ledge.
Great gloomy mirror tell her face,
She will outblind them all.
That heavenly bodies would fall from grace,
To possess such a lustrous pall.
For beauty is always Cruel!
For beauty is always...
Let destiny in chains commence!
Damnation under Gods seeking recompense,
Enslaving to the whims of this mistress.
As the dance ensued, Elizabeth's mood,
Tempered by the craft of a vitreous moon.
In slick black iciness it grew, to consume.
The wench her tower tombed, tending to her costume.
Bore the brunt of the storm, when the needle askewed.
She has her dogs maul the bitch's wrists through.
Restored to jaded bliss, this Evisceratrix.
Descended to the ball with painted blood upon her lips.
Passing like a comet so white, as to eclipse.
The waltz wound down, transfixed!
Devoid of all breath in the air.
Even Death paled to compare,
To the taint of her splendour,
So rare and engendered,
Upon the awed throng gathered there.
Beneath the howling stars!
She danced so macabre,
Men entranced divined from her gait.
That this angel stepped from a pedestal,
Had won remission from fate.
By alighting to darker spheres,
Delighting in held sway.
For she was not unlike the Goddess,
To whom the wolves bayed.
Whilst envy glanced daggers from court maidens, arboured.
Who whispered in sects of suspicions abroad,
That Elizabeth bewitched.
See how even now the whore casts
Her spells upon the Black Count,
Whom her reddened lips hold fast.
Tongue unto tongue, swept on tides without care.
For the harpies who rallied their maledict glares.
A halo of ravens tousled her hair
Chandeliers a tiara, for passions ensnared.
Phantasies sexed when their eyes, moonstruck met.
Their friction wore a way through the sea of foreplay.
Lovers at first bite, an Eve tempted to lay.
Gasping at rafters, flesh pressed in ballet.
But caprice, honours leashed.
She absconded the feast to prowl wonderland.
Beasts in hand from the keep of feudal dilemma.
Well mantled in furs, through cullis to watch.
Dogstars howl at the earth!
On this violent night, unholy night.
Winds lashed their limbs together,
As the ether vent its wintry spite.
She wished his kiss on her frozen landscapes,
To excite the bleak advance.
From castle bowers, wherein small hours,
The Devil never came by chance.
A lone charm tied to her inner thigh,
Sent lusts nova as hooves trod.
Cobbled streets where lowlives fleet,
Were flung to a wayward God.
Midwinter wrongs the rites of spring,
Her spinal chill rakes the earth.
Whilst pensive souls at zero sing,
Woebetidings of rebirth.
Under cold stares of Mars maligned,
Near-suicides cross their hearts.
And unborns writhe in tepid brine,
For something wicked this way starts.
Beneath the howling stars!
Pounding upon the pauper ridge,
Earshot of a hunched beldame.
Elizabeth teased, would he dare to please,
Such elderly loins enflamed?
To this he feigned a grim disdain
Playing to her slayful eye.
But the hag replied:
"This girl that chides,
Will soon be as plagued with age as I."
Her consort laughed a plume of icy breath,
For Elizabeth's grace could raise.
A flag of truce in burning heaven,
Or the dead from early graves.
Yet still she seethed this proud snow-queen,
Embittered with the cursed retort.
And because he sought her loves onslaught,
He gutted the crone for sport.
Soon in full moon fever they were wed,
Lycanthropic in the conjugal bed.
Littered with aphrodisiacs to tease dynastic union,
And beget them further maniacs.
Elizabeth,
Free reigned, now a Countess.
Outwielded and outwore,
Her title like a favoured dress.
Whilst her errant Lord,
Whose seasons savoured war,
Stormed black to fell the infidel.
Her embers, tempered, roared!