Paroles de 'The Finest Art Of Feeding' par Orpheus Blade

The moon has bathed in clouds tonight
I howl in wanton pain
Loose your silk, discard your fright
I'm not foreign to you, my bane
The boiling scarlet of your throat

I cannot resist, nor you
For this eve the need is sire
The winter in your tears, dark venoms
Through and through
In musk of misery and desire

Your soft skin, it draws me
Nearer, I can't
Or wish to decline from this madness!
Lift your chin now, come
Let me take hold
Lose yourself whole in my sadness

For this is the edge where insanity brings
An end to all known and all granted
The kill and the chase and the warming embrace
When all senses scream for the hunt and
Prey

Madness! Overcomes anxiety
Fearless, give me immortality!
The beast inside me wakes, it's clawing me
Staining crimson dreams and cruelty

What are you?
A wolf
And a man?
That is, too
And of virtues?

Milady, of words
A drop of the precious
A drop of the sweet
A drop of the blood and of heat
For this is the edge

And infinity, too
And the hideous face at your door
The kill and the chase
And the dances of two
Of the beast and a man, so forlorn

The man and the beast in silence they feast
But in victory laid to the prey
Then come to me, love
And let me surrender in this lovely curse of the day
Come to me, hunt with the moon
Or be hunted in sake of your flesh
For your blood and your lust and everything, thrust!
Come to me, release the beast!

What is this strange desire
That in me deep enrolls
My dark familiarities, enough was said
What is this haunting craving?
I start to lose control
What dangers it beholds inside its petals red?

And as I lurk behind her
To strike the great unknown
Her rush of blood. A spell on me, it fills my sight!
A mischief is the sunlight
The day is long begone
A beast unleashed and I surrendered to the night

The woods drip of dread oaths
The Lunar call for hunt
And shadows clad only in starfire
Bones reform the edge of immortality
A lone howl jewels the distant candlelight

The risen fullness of me, now awakened and is named
Lycanthropy's strong grip and thoughtless aim
The need runs in dry veins, increasing, I feed and you will claim
Ere it rise on us, a lure to tame
Madness and your arms, and oaks and seas and skies, all bleed for us!
I burn in sweet, disdainful shame