The Nun with the Astral Habit Songtext

von Cradle Of Filth

The world was her cloister, The Abbess Duboir
In the convent at All Hallows Fair
A pearl in an oyster she shone like a star
Augmenting her Sisterhoods prayers
Her singing touched angels and melted
Their hearts
Her choirs inspired the search
Fot the lost Holy Grail, the Benedict Arts
And the best of the Catholic Church
But if one thing
One precious little thing
Would darken this facade
There would be such consequences
Like the night Sister Victoria
Stepped in from the freezing cold
No candles would light at Evening Mass
The days passed by without a sigh
But dusk came thick with dread
Intangible, the air was full
Of wanderlust and approaching bloodshed
In truth, the Abbess with her pious whims
Enjoyed the new girls pain
Proof to the rest that the briars of sin
Entangled all the world in Satan's name
Victoria Varco, once an heiress
To a proud noble estate
Fell pregnant by her recklessness
Who then fell foul to a violent fate
Such was her crime in expediant times
And the shame of besmirching her name
Her child was burnt, she was dragged to these walls
For a life in obedient chains
But not one thing
One precious little thing
Would darken this facade

Like the night Sister Victoria
Woke screaming in her room
She spent a week spiralling from heaven
And as the seasons wheezed and pined
Her dreams grew more preverse
For no good reason she would find
An alluring women naked save for jewels and verse
When her eyelids closed, on a moonlit shore
This intoxicating beauty would appear
The sweetest symphony composed
Those abating lips rose
To whisper dirty ecrets in her ear
Clandestine Secrets
A dream within a dream
She finds herself this nymph
Abreast a desert dune
And below the cresent moon
Atop a darksome stranger
Ah, the spurting of his seed inside her triggers paridise
She rides the beast until the heavens tremble
Forcing eclipse, her lover licks her blood that drips down upon the sand
And almost out of hand
Coarse plots assemble
For somewhere in the convent walls
A Templar treasure rests
Forgotton to the vestibules
Like pleasures of the flesh
So in return for nightly runs
Past tongues and wisdoms hiss
She promised to assist the hunt
For and ancient golden chain amiss.