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- SONG: TURN LOOSE THE SWANS ALBUM: TURN LOOSE THE SWANS
- GROUP: MY DYING BRIDE
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- SO LITTLE OF WHAT WE OBSERVE, IS THE GIRL
- HERSELF. ELABORATE, SCENTED COIFFERS. ADIEU
- D'AMOUR. VAST IS THE HEIRS BALLROOM. LET THE
- RICH GIVE YOU PRESENTS. HEAVEN POURS FROM
- HER THROAT, AS SHE SINGS AND AS SHE DANCES.
- THE FUMES OF RICH SWINE, HONEYGLAZED AND
- DRIPPING, PLAYING IN THE AIR. MY MOUTH EAGER
- AND WISHING. BUT I RETURN TO THIS
- NIGHTINGALE. HER HAIR ALL FIERY RED. DEEP IT IS
- AND WILD. MY WEAKNESS WILL BE FED. BOYS
- WHIPPED ON THE ALTER OF DIANA, SOMETIMES
- UNTILL THEY DIED. THE CUNNING WILY
- MERCHANT, AND HIS FOUR CRIPPLED HORSES. TALES
- TOLD IN WARLIKE MANNER. THE STORYTELLER BY
- THE FIRE . WHILE MUSING DEEPLY ON THIS SIGHT,
- THE SONGSTER STIRRED MY DESIRE. YOU ARE
- SWEET AND FINE TO LISTEN TO. LONG TRESSES
- ABOUT HER NECK. YET MUCH IS FALSE. THIS
- MIGHTY EVENING, I'VE SEEN NO FACE. THIS IS
- CRUSHING ME. MY QUILL IT ACHES. TURN LOOSE
- THE SWANS THAT DREW MY POETS CRAFT. I'LL
- DWELL IN DESOLATE CITIES. YOU BURNED MY
- WINGS. I LEAVE THIS ODE, SPLENDID VICTORIOUS
- THROUGH THE CARNAGE. I WANTED TO TOUCH
- THEM ALL. I WANTED TO TOUCH THEM ALL.
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- SadO CitY LyriC CollectioN
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