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Dying I Only Feel Apathy - Theatre of Tragedy

"Now as I am to be bereaft of my troth I cry aloud my last words of lost hope. A violent gust of wind is my frame of mind; Huxes like moisture through pores. I am unwilling to forgive Him who depriev'd"

Black as the devil painteth - Theatre of Tragedy

"An artist is what is call'd the self that the brush holdeth - Though hath it then caringly caress'd the Canvas of to-morrow?, O Canvas! for thee I hold my tool - still! passionless it quivereth, Minding"

Cheerful dirge - Theatre of Tragedy

"Play by Raymond, Music by Theatre of Tragedy "Hap mirthfulness! - Oh! joy of grand riddance; Undress me my hauberk! - the wyvern hath errant'd." "Ire of yore - bard of e'eryears - I deem the brood hath"

Sweet are thou - Theatre of Tragedy

"Stay still patient; wilt thou my sister of merciful troth be? I shall attempt the halter of thy life make less tighten'd!" "I shall climb the yew, Will it subdue me or not!" "Swooning emotio ns smite my"

Sweet Art Thou - Theatre of Tragedy

"Stay still patient; wilt thou my sister of merciful troth be? I shall attempt the halter of thy life make less lighten'd! I shall climb the yew, Will it subdue me or not! Swooning emotions smite my bosom"

Fade - Theatre of Tragedy

"Silky tidal wavesIn the midst of summerTrap door of our houseSliding up and downDays of childhood gleamDo you still remember?Nowhere have I seenShadows disappearEver since thenAnd I fade like the dew before"

Bacchante - Theatre of Tragedy

"Ado with a mean woe, An ado as aglow: Belying the paynim Thou rewrot'st the tome - An ivy-crown'd and dancing, And fawn'd and trancing - Espying the surly wud, And heeding her not. Celebration Afear'd"

Automatic lover - Theatre of Tragedy

"Don't you wanna end up with this mister? ah He is just being nice with his kisses and he Thinks you're not one of the smart ones Say it sexy Doesn't seem like you want that kind of honey, honey :|| From"

Highlights - Theatre of Tragedy

"Always the young oneWalks along the newly interred courseMindful of what he is and has becomeSomehow, we all admireSomewhy, that's what all requireAlways a heartbeatFollowers can deal with pure deceitNo"

Mire - Theatre of Tragedy

"Harken! - teh clouds mustered in dark - So painfully easing. Hush! - hearest ye the yew doting; Its years of yore in a mre, Each like a corpse within its grave; Wrought for us a yearn of lief; 'Tis not"

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