We use cookies to customize content and advertising, to provide social media features, and to analyze traffic to our site. We also share information about your use of our site with our trusted social media, advertising and analytics partners. Read more.

    Candlemass / Lyrics

    Playlist 0 Rate 0 Like & Share Print Email Play

    "Epistle No. 81" Lyrics


    Rank: (−)
    −/5 from 0 users
    Charts: view all »
    Referring urls:view all »



    Mark how our shadow, Mark Movits mom frere
    One small darkness encloses
    How gold and purple that shovel there
    To rags and rubbish disposes

    Charon beckons from tumultuous waves
    Then trice this ancient digger of graves
    For thee ne'er grapeskin shall glister
    Wherefore my Movits come help me to raise
    A gravestone over our sister

    Even desirous and modest adobe
    Under the sighing branches
    Where time and death, a marriage forebode
    Twixt beauty and ugliness ashes

    To thee ne'er jealousy findeth her way
    Nor happiness footstep, swift to stray
    Flitteth amid these barrows
    E'en enmity armed, as thou seest this day
    Piously breaketh her arrow

    The little bell echoes the great bells groan
    Robed in the door the precentor
    Noisome with quiristers prayerful moan
    Blesses those, who enter

    The way to this templed city of tombs
    Climbs amid roses yellowing blooms
    Fragments of mouldering biers
    Till black-clad each mourner,
    His station assumes
    Bows there deeply in tears
    This song was submitted on December 7th, 2004 and last modified on November 24th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Emi Music Publishing.
    Written by Leif Edling.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

    Songs you may also like


    leaderboard activity


    Facebook (0) LetsSingIt (0)