
Tragic Kingdom
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Lyrics
Here sat Babylon!
Fattened by the purses,
of the worst and wrong.
Where the decadent tastes,
of Hell grew strong.
Like a curse upon,
this tragic kingdom!
Dusk descended like a final curtain,
on this stage only death was certain.
Singing through the turrets,
like a velvet serenade played near a grave.
Sentries and gentry,
afforded the bloom,
of a red setting sun,
and a bloodletting moon.
Applauded,
then accorded them,
portents of doom,
almost too soon.
They pissed upon the winds,
that rocked the cradles.
Laughing over those hovels,
grovelling to wolves.
They kissed and sinned,
under overstocked tables.
As the world outside,
grew sodden and mauled.
Here sat Babylon!
Fattened by the purses,
of the worst and wrong.
Where the decadent tastes,
of Hell grew strong.
Like a curse upon,
this tragic kingdom!
Gilles sat sipping absinthe,
from a goblet made of bone.
As lightning ripped and danced,
upon the flagstones.
Wayward fantasies,
marched on home!
Now the treetops bowed to whisper,
in a thin Disney veneer.
They knew the howls so exquisitely honed,
were those of children, disappeared.
They'd listened to the winds,
heard the murdered Abel.
Re-christened in the,
stone jaws of Tiffauges.
Where the list of sins,
grew beyond a fable.
They now roared abroad,
restless with debauch.
Restless with debauch!
Restless with debauch!
This tragic kingdom,
would see God's Angels walk away...
Satanic, enigmatic,
his black magic was ecstatic.
Megalomaniac in titanic displays!
Dressed in the best,
wicked britches of the West.
He cut a mourning figure,
in glorious swathe.
But all his nightmares,
would come true.
Drowning in a stream,
of unbounded pleasure.
Here sat Babylon!
Fattened by the purses,
of the worst and wrong.
Where the decadent tastes,
of Hell grew strong.
Like a curse upon,
this tragic kingdom!
The moon bleared,
through the skeletal trees.
Averting her face,
from congenital deeds.
Thus eves grew murky,
haunted, grieved,
about this place,
laced with demon seed.
Blanchet, a priest, his book of lies,
exonerated him from Gilles' crimes.
Announced his fears, one night of sighs,
a night for cursing nursery rhymes.
In the light of the fire,
wrestling feckless shadows.
The tracks get blacker,
for this tragical kingdom!
Gilles' frightening wealth,
his tightening grip on the weak,
and the rubies that his coffers let slip.
Steered to near ruin,
in successive years,
of the most of excess,
and the best of it here.
In the light of the fire,
wrestling reckless shadows!
Fattened by the purses,
of the worst and wrong.
Where the decadent tastes,
of Hell grew strong.
Like a curse upon,
this tragic kingdom!
Dusk descended like a final curtain,
on this stage only death was certain.
Singing through the turrets,
like a velvet serenade played near a grave.
Sentries and gentry,
afforded the bloom,
of a red setting sun,
and a bloodletting moon.
Applauded,
then accorded them,
portents of doom,
almost too soon.
They pissed upon the winds,
that rocked the cradles.
Laughing over those hovels,
grovelling to wolves.
They kissed and sinned,
under overstocked tables.
As the world outside,
grew sodden and mauled.
Here sat Babylon!
Fattened by the purses,
of the worst and wrong.
Where the decadent tastes,
of Hell grew strong.
Like a curse upon,
this tragic kingdom!
Gilles sat sipping absinthe,
from a goblet made of bone.
As lightning ripped and danced,
upon the flagstones.
Wayward fantasies,
marched on home!
Now the treetops bowed to whisper,
in a thin Disney veneer.
They knew the howls so exquisitely honed,
were those of children, disappeared.
They'd listened to the winds,
heard the murdered Abel.
Re-christened in the,
stone jaws of Tiffauges.
Where the list of sins,
grew beyond a fable.
They now roared abroad,
restless with debauch.
Restless with debauch!
Restless with debauch!
This tragic kingdom,
would see God's Angels walk away...
Satanic, enigmatic,
his black magic was ecstatic.
Megalomaniac in titanic displays!
Dressed in the best,
wicked britches of the West.
He cut a mourning figure,
in glorious swathe.
But all his nightmares,
would come true.
Drowning in a stream,
of unbounded pleasure.
Here sat Babylon!
Fattened by the purses,
of the worst and wrong.
Where the decadent tastes,
of Hell grew strong.
Like a curse upon,
this tragic kingdom!
The moon bleared,
through the skeletal trees.
Averting her face,
from congenital deeds.
Thus eves grew murky,
haunted, grieved,
about this place,
laced with demon seed.
Blanchet, a priest, his book of lies,
exonerated him from Gilles' crimes.
Announced his fears, one night of sighs,
a night for cursing nursery rhymes.
In the light of the fire,
wrestling feckless shadows.
The tracks get blacker,
for this tragical kingdom!
Gilles' frightening wealth,
his tightening grip on the weak,
and the rubies that his coffers let slip.
Steered to near ruin,
in successive years,
of the most of excess,
and the best of it here.
In the light of the fire,
wrestling reckless shadows!
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