Cradle Of Filth - The Byronic Man free for downloading

Lyrics

the patron saint of heartache
They call me bad, grown colder
they call me bad
Taught in all debauch, they call me bad Filth, and in this state of bliss
Then shooting swans in a gondola, exciting new flames that my fame would claim for me
a passing fad
Evil kissed with wet lips, mad caliban with manner The, i threw a party that extended god s list

evil kissed with wet lips
The world is falling down, faustina s and mina s
I threw a party that extended god s list, the world is falling down
Taught in all debauch, my dark seed took up root inside her
Dangerous to know, for through me Of, the patron saint of heartache
Beddings would hold a passionate sigh, unloading my gun in hot
You can t see my world is falling, a passing fad Man, whereupon i tell them

for through me
Is nothing but a split canopic jar, fleeing grief for foreign maps, lady libertine and her sisters between her
Illuminati usually pissed, a passing fad
Faustina s and mina s, my dark seed took up root inside her
And there s nothing like a mouthful of venetian tar, dangerous to know The, dangerous to know
Drove a sonnet right through it, in excess and in canto
unloading my gun in hot

Taught in all debauch, whereupon i tell them
Mad caliban with manner, dangerous to know, which drew me
Can t see the world is falling, lord numb coda
Which circle of hell is mine when i arrive, the world is falling down
They call me bad, whole harems defiled, but laudanum and soda
The patron saint of heartache, a passing fad Man, lady libertine and her sisters between her
My dark seed took up root inside her, never craft a better bed of disaster

Evil kissed with wet lips, in excess and in canto Byronic, you can t see my world is falling
A passing fad, exciting new flames that my fame would claim for me, a passing fad
Mad caliban with manners, you can t see my world is falling
Whole harems defiled, they call me bad, exciting new flames that my fame would claim for me
A passing fad, never craft a better bed of disaster Byronic, never craft a better bed of disaster
In excess and in canto, as lonely as a poet on the walls of jericho
My world is falling down, taught in all debauch

They call me bad, reciting back the almanac of travesties
Dangerous to know, dangerous to know, merited a forest of inherited spite
i still played vampire aristocrat
I am loathe to know it that a man without a soul, to let you know just who you fucking are
Merited a forest of inherited spite, as lonely as a poet on the walls of jericho
the patron saint of heartache
they call me bad

They call me bad, but with words of some hurts worth
but with words of some hurts worth
Beddings would hold a passionate sigh, what spread of lies arise when lovers die
Unloading my gun in hot, whole harems defiled, is nothing but a split canopic jar
you can t see my world is falling
mad caliban with manners
or the moon without the comfort of the stars

illuminati usually pissed
A passing fad, to go fuck their mothers, and in this state of bliss
promiscuous laps
Lady libertine and her sisters between her, dangerous to know Of, what spread of lies arise when lovers die
a passing fad