Paroles de Arcane and Misanthropic Projection

Through arcades where shimmering snowfall Lay in state with the sad and damned A rent lament barely flung above a whisper Drew Me like a ghost to the haunts of Man I Found Her tempting fate between Her wrist and razor A kindred spirit in a graveyard Beneath the stature of a colder saviour Mist hung like thieves wreathed in scant arabesques And through the chill earth it bedwed Her drawling breast Like a come dream true under etched glass spent Making love to the beautiful dead...