Overall about difficult moments of disappointment and vulnerability. Having hope and longing, while remaining optimistic for the future. Encourages the belief that with each new morning there is a chance for things to improve.
The chorus offers a glimmer of optimism and a chance at a resolution and redemption in the future.
Captures the rollercoaster of emotions of feeling lost while loving someone who is not there for you, feeling let down and abandoned while waiting for a lover. Lost with no direction, "Now I'm up in the air with the rain in my hair, Nowhere to go, I can go anywhere"
The bridge shows signs of longing and a plea for companionship. The Lyrics express a desire for authentic connection and the importance of Loving someone just as they are. "Just in passing, I'm not asking. That you be anyone but you”
"Mirror, mirror on the wall
Shouldst not grave pleasures be my all?
For if I shall see thy Will be done
Grant Me the Witchcraft of thy tongue"
Three moondials froze in the shadow of six
As another soul passed to the grasping Styx
Clutching their trinket crucifix
Bats blew from caves in a dissonant surge
Omens of corruption from within the church
A fetid, dank oasis still clung to fool rebirth
Alone as a stone cold altar
The castle and its keep
Like faerytale dominion rose
A widow to the snow peaks
Wherein reclined the Countess
Limbs purring from the kill
Bathed in virgin white and like the night
Alive and young and unfulfilled
Was it the cry of a wolf
That broke the silver thread of enchanted thoughts?
Of Her life as a mere reflection
(As the moon's in narrow windows caught)
That opened like dark eyelids on
The sigh of the woods that the wind fell upon
Like a Siren weaving song
From the lilt of choirs choking
Where the vengeful dead
Belong...
To the Sorceress and Her charnel arts
She swept from ebon towers at the hour of Mars
'Neath a star-inwoven sky latticed by scars
To unbind knotted reins that kept in canter, despair
Shod on melancholy, fleet to sanctuary there,
In netherglades tethered where onyx idols stared
Was it the Kiss of the mist
That peopled the air with the prowess of absinthe?
Lost souls begging resurrection
From Gods upon their forest plinths
Whose epitaphs read of re-ascending to win
Remission from despair through a holocaust of sin
In a tongue hilted in invective rectums
Over signs and seals the sorceress prayed
To Death, to rend the slender veil
That Ancient Ones might rise again
As shadows swelled
The Countess fell
To masturbating with Her dagger
As the Witch gabbled spells
Cumming heavy roses all the way to Hell
As sudden thunder's grue harangue
Announced two pincered worlds
Exuding bane, something came
With the stench of necrophiled graves
To these clandestines
Who shrank from glimpsing horror
That the growls of mating houls inclined...
Resplendent
In pendants
(Natal trophies torn from bellies of desanctified nuns)
A demons, bewinged, bedight
In scum, prowled their circle seeking entry to run
An arctic tongue upon Her vulva
Where rubies smeared to alabaster thighs
Glittered like a contract in the purse of a whore
Receiving sole communion from the body of christ
"If blood is what thou carves, foul fiend
I will yield this witch to thee
If thou wouldst draw a veil for Me
O'er lengthening scars of age and grief"
As the Demon slavered foetid vows
And bore His prey away
In talons itching to perpetrate
The nausea of eternal rape
The Sorceress screaming in His grasp
Spat a final curse to stain
The Countess with the promise
That Her lord at war would be cruelly slain
And She would rot.
Alone
Insane.
On the twisted nails of faith.
Shouldst not grave pleasures be my all?
For if I shall see thy Will be done
Grant Me the Witchcraft of thy tongue"
Three moondials froze in the shadow of six
As another soul passed to the grasping Styx
Clutching their trinket crucifix
Bats blew from caves in a dissonant surge
Omens of corruption from within the church
A fetid, dank oasis still clung to fool rebirth
Alone as a stone cold altar
The castle and its keep
Like faerytale dominion rose
A widow to the snow peaks
Wherein reclined the Countess
Limbs purring from the kill
Bathed in virgin white and like the night
Alive and young and unfulfilled
Was it the cry of a wolf
That broke the silver thread of enchanted thoughts?
Of Her life as a mere reflection
(As the moon's in narrow windows caught)
That opened like dark eyelids on
The sigh of the woods that the wind fell upon
Like a Siren weaving song
From the lilt of choirs choking
Where the vengeful dead
Belong...
To the Sorceress and Her charnel arts
She swept from ebon towers at the hour of Mars
'Neath a star-inwoven sky latticed by scars
To unbind knotted reins that kept in canter, despair
Shod on melancholy, fleet to sanctuary there,
In netherglades tethered where onyx idols stared
Was it the Kiss of the mist
That peopled the air with the prowess of absinthe?
Lost souls begging resurrection
From Gods upon their forest plinths
Whose epitaphs read of re-ascending to win
Remission from despair through a holocaust of sin
In a tongue hilted in invective rectums
Over signs and seals the sorceress prayed
To Death, to rend the slender veil
That Ancient Ones might rise again
As shadows swelled
The Countess fell
To masturbating with Her dagger
As the Witch gabbled spells
Cumming heavy roses all the way to Hell
As sudden thunder's grue harangue
Announced two pincered worlds
Exuding bane, something came
With the stench of necrophiled graves
To these clandestines
Who shrank from glimpsing horror
That the growls of mating houls inclined...
Resplendent
In pendants
(Natal trophies torn from bellies of desanctified nuns)
A demons, bewinged, bedight
In scum, prowled their circle seeking entry to run
An arctic tongue upon Her vulva
Where rubies smeared to alabaster thighs
Glittered like a contract in the purse of a whore
Receiving sole communion from the body of christ
"If blood is what thou carves, foul fiend
I will yield this witch to thee
If thou wouldst draw a veil for Me
O'er lengthening scars of age and grief"
As the Demon slavered foetid vows
And bore His prey away
In talons itching to perpetrate
The nausea of eternal rape
The Sorceress screaming in His grasp
Spat a final curse to stain
The Countess with the promise
That Her lord at war would be cruelly slain
And She would rot.
Alone
Insane.
On the twisted nails of faith.
Lyrics submitted by sean, edited by jaughn1150
The Twisted Nails of Faith Lyrics as written by Gianpiero Guiseppe Piras Dani Davey
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Peermusic Publishing
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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I'm pretty sure this one is about bathory being crucified. For example the last line: "And she would rot alone insane on the twisted nails of faith"
And the next song on the album (Bathory Aria) starts off with the line: "Snuffed tapers sighed As death left impressing His crest of cold tears on the Countess Benighted like ill fated usher The house of bathory shroud neath despairs dark facade" So it's clear shes dead, cuz death is impressing his crest of cold tears on her (wtf?).
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actually, you're wrong. she wasn't crucified in this song nor was the beginning of bathory aria speaking of her death. she was grieving because the count "her lord at war" as the witch in this song said, was slain. at the end of bathory aria she was clearly only imprisoned and not dead which is why the line 'where slow death alone could grant her flight' was used