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Ethereal Blood - Cold Crypt Sonatas Vol. I cover art

Cold Crypt Sonatas Vol. I

TypeStudio Full-length
GenresDark Metal, Gothic Metal, Industrial Metal, Symphonic Black Metal
LabelsCosmic Catharsis Records
Album rating :  75 / 100
Votes :  1
Lyrics > E > Ethereal Blood Lyrics (6) >

Cold Crypt Sonatas Vol. I Lyrics

Submitted by level UnholyAndre
1. Night of the Lecherous Dead (6:48)
"Through out mankind's history there have always been days revered,
When the veil betwixing life and death is gossamer thin and sheer.
When the great majority mass themselves and seek an evenings fun.
To sing and dance in base relief, with sweet meats yet to come..."

In the tombs of long forgotten ghouls of a misty mountain pass,
Handfuls of decrepit denizens talk in whispers of the past.
From their coffins, crypts, and unmarked holes they chatter endlessly.
'Neath moon and fog in droves abounds nostalgic reverie...

...Of life, and loss, and true love known,
From these dessicated wraiths of flesh and bone.
A yearning profound,
From the tenement ground,
For the little things they all had known.

And the thing missed most,
By these pitiful ghosts,
Nary one of them denies.
The mere mention of which,
Gives the lot an itch,
That they hasten to satisfy.

A good nights fuck,
And with any luck,
They could rest in peace a spell.
And with passions aflame,
Who of us could blame,
The atrocities that befell?
A good nights suck,
Then in the dirt they will tuck,
Their jovial weary heads.
Spent from unspeakable debauch,
On this Night Of The Lecherous Dead!

They dig and crawl, and are rewarded when the turf doth set them
Stretching leathery limbs,
Singing mocking hymns,
To the powerless Gods that be!

Rakish fiends from the bowels of Hades,
Dreaming of young, and older, ladies.
All quivering mouths on silken thighs,
All screams and coarse phlegmatic sighs.

They knock upon the village doors to solicit a maggoty kiss.
George A. Romero never saw it quite like this.
Falling 'pon the slumbering women like eager ruffians.
And with no ears to hear their pleaing, their exalted in their sins.

But the men fare worse,
Though they kick and curse,
At risen wanton whores.
Famished vulvas straddle them,
Until weakened they protest no more.
An orgy for the Greeks of old,
Warm living flesh for members cold.
A glint in cloudy cataract eyes,
Consent matters not for those who've died!

Never acts of lust so foul,
From mortal deviants on the prowl.
So vulgar as to make it seem,
They invite angels to intervene.

Two or three on one,
Racing 'gainst the rising sun
For climax ere the crow doth caw,
Panting ends for grotesque Ménage a Trois.
They are warm again,
In the world of men,
Through raped and racked embraces.
Orgasm returns the faintest blush,
To these sallow sunken faces.

'Twas a good nights lick,
Of forgotten pricks,
That washed their gripes away.
'Twas a hasty thrust,
To penetrate their crust,
Bar romance and foreplay.
Just a brazen shunt,
Of neglected cunts,
Ere returning to stoney beds,
Carnal needs fed,
And no bastards bred,
On this Night Of The Lecherous Dead.
2. One Leaden Kiss (10:24)
“I am he who haunts thy dreams.
I am that which makes thou tremble.
I what promotes your screams.
I am he for whom the dead assemble.”

Flirting she provoked me,
Rising from my lonesome grave.
A whore’s inviting countenance,
Jesus could not save.
From this cliff's edge,
Lined with trees that weep.
For my noctuary Aphrodite,
Who now naively sleeps.

My Diana and Persephone.
I am Draconian might.
Incubus commanding the night.
The wraith of feverish swoon.
Desire in fragrant blooms.
Death in gentlemen's dress.
A wolf to move amidst the rest.
The thing that should not be,
Swathed in regality.

A misbehaved illuminati whipped with Orion's belt,
Thin across that heaving body,
She will sport a bruising welt.
Where the pain thus heightened lingers,
In bondage masque she felt,
Decay's cold tickling fingers.
The tarot cards are dealt.

For one graven kiss,
That would fulfill her precarious wish.
And my pretentious trecherising lips
Were flung upon a wayward tryst.

Wreathed in mist,
All care dismissed,
She dances along wooded trails.
Chilled to the bone,
And not alone,
Reminiscent of old gypsy tales.
The stars ran helter skelter.
Angels stare with jealous eyes,
'Pon this undead rake who felt her.
A Venus as his prize.

Emotions that awoke
(Much to my disdain)
Free to flame and Mercy's smoke,
Only wilt and ash remain.
From the world’s edge,
Where the air is thick and sweet,
For the cold kiss of Death,
That thy lips are meant to meet.

Following her dreams
Of celestial themes.
Prowling the scene,
Where the dour knell would ring,
Like a circling vulture that brings thee imperishable means.

Shackled by darker things.

My snow white Aphrodite,
So long led astray from light.
And in thy repose,
My deep interest grows,
For visions beyond mortal sight.
Alice toying with her rabbit's hole,
Where glazed eyes gleaming black as coal.
An escape from life so trite and droll,
Drink her blood and fuck her soul.

From gallow's hill in love bespattered,
Her blushing glances always flattered,
Like sweet liquor or a scarlet flower grown to spare.
But so soon her moral shield was tattered,
Fickle wind gossiped and chattered of how my love would
promote her to whimpering in fear.

For one silver kiss.
That would deconsecrate pure lips.
And all that ye could ever wish,
Was discarded in the vast abyss.

A kiss on the cheek of innocence,
Where the Heavens and Earth retreat.
A kiss on the brow of a female psyche,
And forever this verse repeat...

“I am she who burns for thee,
In shivers and in gasps.
I am serendipity who teased in poets laps.
I am thy most humble slave,
But in that thy cruelest master,
It is thee for whom I crave,
And beg to fuck me faster.”

Was it worth it in the end
When she longed for love amiss?
Wouldst thou do it all again for one final blood soaked
In her arms it was erotic,
Disturbing yet narcotic.
And therein,
Like heroine.
A siren's song had brought it.
Now she is gone,
But in verse and song lives on.
Never to be charmed by the light of coming dawn.

But soon,
Under the moon,
Where the darkness consumes.
I lie in wait in the shadows for you.
So squirm,
Vilest worm,
'Till death shall thou turn,
Like a whore in the casket where my lips parted yours.
And learn,
That thy flesh will soon burn,
With a matrimony to the unhallowed grounds,
That surround,
And drown your world,
Once white tender skin to the worms is hurled.

And there's an image burning deep inside my mind,
I stand yearning in-between her decomposing thighs.
Nonchalantly in the crypt,
Masturbating by her grave side.

I mourn this wanton here,
Beneath the willow's stare.
I've spat my final prayer.
Tears crash from the sky,
That echoes my sighs,
To fall o'er her dead ears.

So those priests did well,
In forsaking the pyre,
Only to glut the thirst of a Queen Vampyre…
3. Conceived in Cemetery Soil (7:03)
No less,
We haunt these forlorn graves!
Drowned under,
Such hunger.
Unholy things we crave.

‘Tis romance,
With no chance,
To save such cursed souls.
Peeling bells,
Of inward Hell,
Conspire soon to toll…

Twisting and contorting every thought that ill minds bare,
Eclipsing and supporting all the shadows gathered there.
The fetid resurrection of this nightly Lazarus.
This frozen tomb,
An undead womb,
To birth in blood and lust.

So worship of the moon, and beg to frigid stars.
Shall we howl to a silent God to heal the aeon’s scars?

Darkness falls.
Hark! Wolven calls.
There’s Christian blood to spill.
For once we feast,
Black thirsts will cease,
And all the night be still.

Interred with the vice of Cain,
A voyeur stalks these winter mists.
Peering through the skeletal trees,
The glowing moon had knelt to kiss.

Storm clouds and ebon skies,
We’ve come to blot out holy lies.
At break-neck speed,
Erase their creed,
With calloused last goodbyes.

A nameless daemon horde,
The zealots fall upon our swords.
Feast in funeral fog,
But spare their lives for grave-worms, crows, and dogs.

Beasts of prey delight,
In this endless windswept night,
Whilst strangled song birds vomit forth,
There requiems ‘pon quaking earth.
Atop the cusp of jagged crags that knife the swirling clouds.
Knee deep in corpses raise our flags victorious and proud!

Ishtar my queen I’ll awaken thee at last,
With the oldest form of worship from thy millennial repast.
To satiate desires in the veins of Yahweh’s flock.
Even seraphim will cower from nephilim sent to stalk.

Here and now,
I make a vow,
To piss on Christ’s parade.
So hilt thy fangs,
Thy hunger pangs,
Will end ere evening fades.
In midnight mist,
The throats we’ve kissed,
Now bare The Devil’s mark.
Ravenous thou shalt arise and swear allegiance to the dark.

Famished Thule,
I am the ghoul.
All souls in Sheol thronged.
Azriel and they who fell.
An omen guised as song.

Soft craned necks before us here.
With vulpine eyes the gorgon stares,
To set thy hearts a freeze.
The world shall grovel on its knees.

Centuries of dusk and gloom,
Are a yawning maw stretched to consume.

Arise now my beloved Lilith, make thy presence known.
An eternity it has been since thou sat atop thy throne.
Glutted shall we be on the rife resplendent gore.
A utopia of undeath crafted by the predators.

Beyond the grasp of God on high, not made of Adam’s dust.
The death we bring in savage droves will never reach for us.

In the shadows of thy dreams,
Cast out to myth (or so it seems)
The monsters slowly taking flight,
Emerging in the worlds of light.,
Through ancient rites of sex and death evoke our lady of the damned.
Orgasmic throes, from catholic woes fulfill the pagan queen’s

A moment’s courage then its passed,
Thy suffering is at its last.
No fear, nor pain, or mortal toil,
But a cold rebirth in cemetery soil.

Conceived In Cemetery Soil.

A pleasure sublime,
When my dead lips meet thine,
Like tumbling through a bottomless rift.
Unholy rites,
On infinite nights,
Performed by the giver of clandestine gifts.

“Always remember that The Devil’s greatest trick was to convince
the world that he did not exsist…”
4. Crimson Matrimony (3:19)
5. Wherever the Wolves May Howl (7:12)
With somber eyes he gazed upon the pregnant evening sky,
Preparing to unleash its burden as the day began to die.
His blood ran cold to contemplate what was destined for that night,
Indoctrination into death bereft of God’s redemptive light.

“In madness gripped, my dreams of thee are perverse and impure.”
All truth be told, in fevers hold, He still desired her,
To free him from the mortal shell He’d squirmed in far too long,
And comfort him with spectral hints of sultry siren songs.

As the churchyard grew still and silent like its ancient occupants,
He anxiously paced the tombs reciting the remembered chants…

“Goddess of the night eternal hear my lonesome prayer,
Make of me thy fledgling and eternity we’ll share…”

Responding to his summoning the trees shrank back in fear.
From moonlight and unhallowed ground The Devil’s bride appeared.

The wind began to bicker, its satanic mantras spoke.
Jubilant he tried to laugh only managing to choke.
Bewitched by a cruel beauty from the yawning maw of Hell,
“What ease it was to give myself with glee into her spell.”

With years devoted did he win the treasure he had craved.
She led him by his trembling hand to stand on his own grave.

Cradled as in his mother’s arms,
He relished all her wicked charms.
When crystal goblets grazed his lips,
He took in heady dark-blood sips,
And was sung to ancient nursery rhymes,
That would ease his pain and unforgiven crimes.

Prepared to be young forever,
A predator on the prowl,
Drinking the blood of thy brothers,
From wherever the wolves may howl?

Feasting on slumbering souls,
Like a creditor on the prowl.
Meeting Mephistopheles goals,
From wherever the wolves may howl!

Be sober; be vigilant; for thy adversary The Devil walketh about as a
roaring lion seeking whom he may devour…”

Phantasmic visions form before his blurry eyes.
The cacophony of Hades sung, tumultuous longing sighs.
Inhibitions fleeing him with every plume of icy breath.
He snatched a verse from years gone by “For the wages of sin are
fucking death…”

Luciferian rites fulfilled,
Wanton sex and his blood spilled.
Abandonment and feral lust,
To become the new Prometheus.

Just a moment more and then he’d be,
A thing beyond humanity.
Whilst gathered ‘round his angels cried
O’er his encroaching suicide.

So turns the worm, in the crypt he chose to spurn.

Relinquishing his soul and gaining entrance to a sect,
Of nephilic aspirations, Even Jesus must have wept.
Thus was he sworn to an unrelenting thirst,
So embarking upon his future among the cursed.

“My favored servant do ye hear The Children of the Night?
From forest depths and mountain tops there shrieking in delight,
For thee to join their chorus, though mournful it may be.
If thy wish is to indulge then thou most prove thy utter loyalty.”

And with the tenor of a wife who yields clandestine parts,
Beguiling him to take his life, assuring him her frigid heart.
He opens up his veins and shuts the gates of Heaven tight.
The roaring wind becomes a din that offers no respite.

Saint Peter turns his head at the righteousness he lacks,
His lady’s laughter fills his head and then it all goes inky black.
She laps his watery life from the cracking tiled floor,
And barely appetized she ventures out to find some more.

…From the trappings of her coffin does our vampiress arise,
To glare with malcontent into his clouded dead moon eyes.
The acolyte a corpse who was unfit to join her creed,
She returns to the meaning of life (simply to feast and breed).

God averts indifferent eyes from that he deems as foul,
And lets The Devil reign on earth in lands Wherever The Wolves
May Howl.

Wherever The Wolves May Howl…
6. Transylvanian Concubine (11:09)
Through hamlets where the snow doth fall,
And tickle peaked crags from whence wolves call.
In her casket she slumbers enthralled,
And 'pon waking shatters the pall.

With gossamer strewn all through gold hair,
The dust, rust, and dirt have not impaired,
Thine visage preternaturally fair,
Could make Death blush his heart ensnared.

I wept a thousand promises of love within that tomb,
And cursed "What tragedy is this to be snatched away in
beauty's bloom?"
Pleading to a God that never stifled out my pain,
I soon evoked a Devil in the cold November rain.

Thee I invoke!

Flowering from the sepulcher like nightshade, poised to
The new crowned Queen of the Succubi spoke in lupercalic

"Be with me my noble one,
Light wielding Samael.
I shall spare ye from the torments,
Of life, and death, and Hell."

"Evelyn art thou near me,
As the moss embracing graves?
I have wend untrodden paths,
That my love of thee has paved."

When nightfall descends to silence,
Sister kiss us tenderly.
Two children of the moon we are and ever more will be...

One with the earth from whence we came in feral
To love, to feast, and fuck in existential magnitude.

Through the marsh and brightly glistening snow,
Picking bouquets of hemlock and mistletoe.
Faustian esque,
My black temptress,
Shall never reap what God has sewn.

Pleasure and pain,
Be riven from my veins,
By spasms wrung,
Through vehement tongues
Giving shivers ere I feign.
In velvety lithen arms like an infant I have lain and given
forth my blood for famished Inanna to drain.

When dusk doth fall,
Like a curtain call,
Hasten to kiss my feverish brow.
With the fervent press of thine own frigid lips.

I surrender to thy splendor gleaming Artimis,
To thy fecund embrace, swaying mesmeric hips.
And caress of my flesh by crimson painted finger tips.

Make me as an orchid,
A perennial of night.
That I might pollinate the world,
With the seed of perfumed blight.
Mankind will become giddy sniffing petals of arsenic.
And I will bloom for thee and thy thanatoid hand to pick.

Death come on raven wings,
And spirit me away.
To shaded groves where sirens sing,
And renounce the light of day.

My swoon akin to drowning in Acheron's icy waves,
Where throes of our orgasm are resounding from beyond
the fucking grave.

Tear away thy funereal dress,
So that I may partake of thy ethereal flesh.
And receive communion from an ancient goddess,
For whom my lust crescends afresh.

Praises be to mother war,
Forgiving prosephonous wife.
Ye omnipotent carnivwhore,
Drink'th deeply of my life.

So under full moons ghastly glow,
As vengeful winds torrential blow,
Commence the nights immortal hunt,
To seduce, perverse, and moisten cunt.

And thrust forked tongues twixt virgin thighs,
To be drunk off orgiastic sighs.
Crepuscular or white as bone,
We fixate our gaze on Heaven's gaudy throne.

And claim it as our own.

Lucreita my darling a body and soul for thine,
If thou wouldst but calm my heart until the morning church
bell's chime.
Beneath seven stars aligned,
Teach me the pleasures of being cursed.

Bequeath to me niphillic breasts that wondrously have

An indignant infantile vampyric thirst.

"Bad girls go to Hell.
Denn die toten reiten schnell"

Deep as darkness,
This catharsis,
Pale enchantress come forth to me,
Show me love without end,
And in thy vision will I rend,
A world of nocternity...
7. Courting the Blood Countess (Fucking Carmilla) (6:15)
Night falls swift,
And mends a rift,
Twixt the living and the damned.
Walpurgis Nacht,
The pistol cocked,
By petite ivory hands.

The trees draw back unnerved
As I wend the path to thee,
All clad in black,
For the attack,
On Christianity.

...And so to weave my tale,
Of concubines so pale.
Unlocking harem doors,
Where inside dwell departed whores.

A perverse soul indeed,
In harlots place my seed,
Who twist and writhe,
And pant, Alive!
Ere I'm inclined to feed.

The whimpers as I drain thy veins,
Like soft sung choral hymns.
From silken parts I can't abstain.
The flush of flesh and graven sins.

I am strigoi, the walking dead,
The stuff of legends told.
The growling monster 'neath thy bed,
Nearly three centuries old.

Yet I was once of mortal ken,
The sort of ordinary men,
Who caught the eye of a demoness,
And died in the folds of her gliding dress.

Yes I remember clear!
Long ago I'd naught to fear,
I flittered through that masquerade,
As if my youth would never fade.

'Twas at All Hollows' Fair,
The scent of bon fires in the air,
Autumnal leaves,
Adrift the breeze,
Were strewn all through her hair.

And was she not a sight to see?
In purest femininity,
Her red rouged lips brought vertigo,
Like a bitch straight from the verse of Poe.

At once it was decided,
My fate for me was provided.
When she plucked at my heart strings,
I'd brave the grave and other depraved things.

And then my world was spinning,
And my cruel countess was grinning.
The moonlight glowing in her eyes,
Had made, assuaged, and paralyzed.

I awoke to darkness and the scent of ancient musk,
Gossamer and candles dim,
Coupled with retreating dusk.

Lo! Lady Death approaches,
Fixed with lace and golden broaches.
A dusty angel clad in white,
My Cold Crypt mistress of the night.

She speaks to me with siren tone,
Her tenor chills me to the bone,
It haunts me,
Taunts me,
Takes control,
Of my feeble mortal pining soul...

("Hush now dear I know you’re frightened,
Kiss me and so be enlightened.
Give thy soul, thy blood, thy sperm.
Or lie this night amidst the worms.")

...And I consent lest I provoke,
This wrathful Lamia I woke,
Forfeiting to The Queen of Lies,
With wolven fangs and dripping thighs.

Salve mater noctis amen!
Salve mater noctis in aeternum.

Within her temple it's like heaven,
Making love on crypts unleven.
Arching, moaning, I'm aghast.
For the dead travel quick and cum so fast.

Those fiery tresses in my face,
Her lips in quite a lower place.
Deceitful lashes brushed my cheek,
We fucked for what felt like a week.

'Twas every dark desire,
Of which I'd never tire. I'd be a slave,
Forever rave,
With madness to inspire.

Soon I'm drifting astral planes,
And not a shred of guilt remains.
Visions I marvel and detest,
I give my blood without protest.

At consciousness I grasp,
And still I hear her little gasps.
My limbs were growing weak,
When at last I heard her speak...

("Hush now dear I know you’re weary,
Dream of sprites and woodland faeries.
For once my heart pumps life to thee,
Thou shalt know immortality...")

Salve mater noctis amen
Salve mater noctis in aeternum!
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