Текст песни Lorelei - Theatre of Tragedy
                                                Færie 
                                                dearest, 
                                                was 
                                                it 
                                                loe 
                                                soothfast 
                                                or 
                                                    a 
                                                façade
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                serenade 
                                                siren′d 
                                                to 
                                                lure
 
                                    
                                
                                                Zounds! 
                                                Not 
                                                to 
                                                court 
                                                me
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                mænad, 
                                                yet 
                                                the 
                                                sweetest 
                                                colleen
 
                                    
                                
                                                Certes 
                                                didst 
                                                thou 
                                                me 
                                                unveil 
                                                meekly 
                                                life 
                                                pristine
 
                                    
                                
                                                Lorelei
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                poet 
                                                of 
                                                tragedies 
                                                (scribe 
                                                    I 
                                                lauds 
                                                to 
                                                Death)
 
                                    
                                
                                                Yet 
                                                who 
                                                the 
                                                hell 
                                                was 
                                                    I 
                                                to 
                                                dare? 
                                                (Lorelei)
 
                                    
                                
                                                Canst 
                                                thou 
                                                not 
                                                see 
                                                thou 
                                                to 
                                                me 
                                                needful 
                                                art?
 
                                    
                                
                                                Canst 
                                                thou 
                                                not 
                                                see 
                                                the 
                                                loss 
                                                of 
                                                loe 
                                                painful 
                                                is?
 
                                    
                                
                                                Dædally 
                                                didst 
                                                thou 
                                                perform 
                                                the 
                                                tragic 
                                                pasquinade
 
                                    
                                
                                                For 
                                                all 
                                                years 
                                                    a 
                                                damndest 
                                                and 
                                                drieghed 
                                                accolade
 
                                    
                                
                                                Caused 
                                                for 
                                                all 
                                                eyes 
                                                mazed 
                                                to 
                                                behold 
                                                    a 
                                                mêlée
 
                                    
                                
                                                In 
                                                the 
                                                midst 
                                                did 
                                                    I 
                                                swainly 
                                                cast 
                                                thee 
                                                my 
                                                bouquet
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                one 
                                                and 
                                                sole 
                                                faggot 
                                                that 
                                                feedeth 
                                                the 
                                                fire
 
                                    
                                
                                                Bellowed 
                                                bidingly 
                                                by 
                                                my 
                                                heart's 
                                                quailing 
                                                quire
 
                                    
                                
                                                Lorelei
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                poet 
                                                of 
                                                tragedies 
                                                (scribe 
                                                    I 
                                                lauds 
                                                to 
                                                Death)
 
                                    
                                
                                                Yet 
                                                who 
                                                the 
                                                hell 
                                                was 
                                                    I 
                                                to 
                                                dare? 
                                                (Lorelei)
 
                                    
                                
                                                Canst 
                                                thou 
                                                not 
                                                see 
                                                thou 
                                                to 
                                                me 
                                                needful 
                                                art?
 
                                    
                                
                                                Canst 
                                                thou 
                                                not 
                                                see 
                                                the 
                                                loss 
                                                of 
                                                loe 
                                                painful 
                                                is?
 
                                    
                                
                                                Perchance 
                                                author 
                                                    I 
                                                thee 
                                                this 
                                                ikoned 
                                                apologue 
                                                for 
                                                aught
 
                                    
                                
                                                Doth 
                                                the 
                                                wecht 
                                                burthen 
                                                thee? 
                                                Then 
                                                bethink 
                                                thine 
                                                afterthought
 
                                    
                                
                                                ′Tween 
                                                Æther 
                                                and 
                                                'Nether 
                                                art 
                                                thou 
                                                the 
                                                peerless 
                                                phœnix
 
                                    
                                
                                                Prithee, 
                                                darlingmost, 
                                                court 
                                                me 
                                                rather 
                                                than 
                                                the 
                                                peevish 
                                                prolix
 
                                    
                                
                                                Lorelei
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                poet 
                                                of 
                                                tragedies 
                                                (scribe 
                                                    I 
                                                lauds 
                                                to 
                                                Death)
 
                                    
                                
                                                Yet 
                                                who 
                                                the 
                                                hell 
                                                was 
                                                    I 
                                                to 
                                                dare? 
                                                (Lorelei)
 
                                    
                                
                                                Canst 
                                                thou 
                                                not 
                                                see 
                                                thou 
                                                to 
                                                me 
                                                needful 
                                                art?
 
                                    
                                
                                                Canst 
                                                thou 
                                                not 
                                                see 
                                                the 
                                                loss 
                                                of 
                                                loe 
                                                painful 
                                                is?
 
                                    
                                
                                                Lorelei
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                poet 
                                                of 
                                                tragedies 
                                                (scribe 
                                                    I 
                                                lauds 
                                                to 
                                                Death)
 
                                    
                                
                                                Yet 
                                                who 
                                                the 
                                                hell 
                                                was 
                                                    I 
                                                to 
                                                dare? 
                                                (Lorelei)
 
                                    
                                
                                                Canst 
                                                thou 
                                                not 
                                                see 
                                                thou 
                                                to 
                                                me 
                                                needful 
                                                art?
 
                                    
                                
                                                Canst 
                                                thou 
                                                not 
                                                see 
                                                the 
                                                loss 
                                                of 
                                                loe 
                                                painful 
                                                is?
 
                                    
                                
                                                Lorelei
 
                                    
                                
                                                Lorelei
 
                                    
                                
                                                Lorelei
 
                                    
                                
                                                Lorelei
 
                                    
                                 
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