AWA

The Nun With The Astral Habit

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  • 2010.11.01
  • 4:54
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歌詞

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.

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