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The Existential Gentlemen
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Devil in the White City
When I was but a lad Back in the year of 1890 and three There was a man who took the stage And set the front page on fire Perhaps we should have known The look he gave that poor widow Once, such a long time ago
With a gleam in his eye And a tip of his hat
Just imagine for a moment The scene forlorn and hopeless A baleful black mass of medieval torture trappings suffice, it could not be believed
Blood Death and Magic A story rather tragic It's a nightmare, a fright fair The Devil's such a debonair He cured the fever with rags soaked in ether And prayers to the deceiver
Where did we go wrong? There has to be some kind Of deviance inside his heart To have fallen so far With evidence we'll know we're right With evidence we know we're right, oh yeah!
Defiant to the last In supplication to powers that be A calvacade, a masquerade 更多更详尽歌词 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔镜歌词网 This man is not to be believed We've seen the bones despite the prose That flows like bile from this Monster of west 63rd
He's a myth, what a fiend Here's the facts that we've gleaned
From the combing of a castle The torture doctor master Devoid and defiled by the demons he provided Shall swing from the end of a rope
Blood Death and Magic A story rather tragic It's a nightmare, a fright fair The Devil's such a debonair He cured the fever with rags soaked in ether And prayers to the deceiver
And in these silent streets Eternity becomes us For even though he's gone The atmosphere's all wrong As we sidle along And the band still plays
Perhaps our human nature Will have the rest of us repeating his ways
Do you believe in the sun when it's gone? I defy you to remain the same
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