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Cradle Of Filth - English Fire Lyrics

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  • Seven brides serve me seven sins
  • Seven seas writhe for me
  • From Orient gates to Rlyeh
  • Abydos to Thessaly
  • And Sirens sing from stern
  • But now I cease to play
  • For I yearn to return
  • To woodland ferns
  • Where Herne and his wild huntress lay
  • Now the tidal are turning
  • Spurning the darkness
  • The great purgations of distinguished tours
  • Are but stills in time
  • To the thrill that Im
  • Once more
  • Heading to the bedding
  • Of her English shores
  • The wind bickered in Satanic mill sails
  • Eyes flickered in deep thickets of trees
  • And mists clung tight in panic to vales
  • When Brigantia spoke her soul to me
  • From Imbolg to Bealtaine
  • Lughnasadh to Samhain feasts
  • I heard her lament as seasons blent
  • Together a chimerical beast
  • Now the tidal are turning
  • Churning in darkness
  • The celebrations of extinguished wars
  • Are but stills in time
  • To the chill that climbs
  • Once more
  • Dreading the red weddings
  • On her English shores
  • Gone are the rustic summers of my youth
  • Cruel winters cut their sacred throats
  • With polished scythes that reap worldwide
  • Pitch black skies and forest smoke
  • And the hosts that I saw there
  • Drones of carrion law
  • Drove the ghosts of my forbears
  • To rove and rally once more
  • One of her sons from the vast far-flung
  • Come home to rebuild
  • The rampant line of the Leonine
  • Risen over pestilent fields
  • Now the tidal are turning
  • Burning in darkness
  • The salvation of her hungry sword
  • Shalt spill like wine
  • From the hills to chines
  • That pour
  • Spreading her beheadings
  • On these English shores
  • For the hosts that I saw there
  • Drones of carrion law
  • Drove the ghosts of my forbears
  • To rove and rally once more
  • This is a waking for England
  • From its reticent doze
  • This is a waking for England
  • Lest hope and glory are regarded as foes

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