Bài hát The Byronic Man Báo Lỗi

The Byronic Man




As lonely as a poet on the wall of Jericho

Or the moon without the comfort of the stars

I am loathe to know it that a man without a soul

Is nothing but a split canopic jar


I proved it, improved it

Drove a sonnet right through it

And in this state of bliss

Evil kissed with wet lips

Pen-filled fingertips

Which drew me, for through me

Illuminati usually pissed

But with words of some hurts worth

I threw a party that extended God's list


Exciting new flames that my fame would claim for me

Reciting back the almanac of travesties


They call me bad

Mad Caliban with manner

Dangerous to know

A passing fad

Taught in all debauch

In excess and in canto


Grown wild this child

Whole harems defiled

Faustina's and Mina's

Lady Libertine and her sisters between her


What spread of lies arise when lovers die

Which circle of hell is mine when I arrive?


They call me bad

Mad Caliban with manners

Dangerous to know

A passing fad

Taught in all debauch

Crow against the virgin snow


Grown colder, my shoulder

Like a boulder beside her

And bolder, not wiser

My dark seed took up root inside he

That mouldered, where older


Beddings would hold a passionate sigh

But laudanum and soda

Lord Numb coda

Merited a forest of inherited spite


Fleeing grief for foreign maps

I still played vampire aristocrat

Unloading my gun in hot, promiscuous laps


Then shooting swans in a gondola

I tripped my foot on a fallen star

And there's nothing like a mouthful of Venetian tar

To let you know just who you fucking are


[Ville:]

The patron saint of heartache

You can't see my world is falling

The world is falling down

The patron saint of heartache

Can't see the world is falling

My world is falling down


[Dani and Ville:]

Ever after, can they hear my laughter?

The patron saint of heartache

Never craft a better bed of disaster...

The patron saint of heartache


They call me bad

Made Caliban with manners

Dangerous to know

A passing fad

Taught in all debauch

In excess and in canto


They call me bad

Mad Caliban with manners

Dangerous to know

A passing fad

Whereupon I tell them

To go fuck their mothers

As so...

On my grave