07. Black as the Devil Painteth
๐ต 1175 characters
โฑ๏ธ 5:24 duration
๐ ID: 14194766
๐ Lyrics
An artist is what is called the self that the brush holdeth
Though hath it then caringly caressed the canvas of tomorrow?
Oh, canvas, for thee I hold my tool, still passionless it quivereth
Minding not that my hands are more than apt
My muse
Where is hidden the blue-hued arch beneath the high heaven's rich emblazonry
The flowery meadow embraced by the horizon, snowflaked and aery mountains
In which the bare-breasted maidens dance to the lay o' midsummer
Aloft the distant lazy flapping of the doves in vainglore
Oh, canvas, wherefore canst thou these images not allow?
I deem a projection of my theatre they should be
Then I challenge thee the wisdom of naysaying the yearns o' mine
What is this unforeseen that not enjoineth light shades
To be skillfully painted?
I thought that love would last forever
I was wrong
The raven sky preyed on by the snow-filled, blustery clouds
Unadorned the meadow, hunger driveth the wolf out of the wood
The maidens chained and whipped within a dreary dungeon
And lo, 'twixt the wizen roses a mossy grave
The devil is as black as he painteth
Oh, oh, canvas, wherefore?
The devil is as black as he painteth
Oh, oh, canvas, wherefore?
Though hath it then caringly caressed the canvas of tomorrow?
Oh, canvas, for thee I hold my tool, still passionless it quivereth
Minding not that my hands are more than apt
My muse
Where is hidden the blue-hued arch beneath the high heaven's rich emblazonry
The flowery meadow embraced by the horizon, snowflaked and aery mountains
In which the bare-breasted maidens dance to the lay o' midsummer
Aloft the distant lazy flapping of the doves in vainglore
Oh, canvas, wherefore canst thou these images not allow?
I deem a projection of my theatre they should be
Then I challenge thee the wisdom of naysaying the yearns o' mine
What is this unforeseen that not enjoineth light shades
To be skillfully painted?
I thought that love would last forever
I was wrong
The raven sky preyed on by the snow-filled, blustery clouds
Unadorned the meadow, hunger driveth the wolf out of the wood
The maidens chained and whipped within a dreary dungeon
And lo, 'twixt the wizen roses a mossy grave
The devil is as black as he painteth
Oh, oh, canvas, wherefore?
The devil is as black as he painteth
Oh, oh, canvas, wherefore?
โฑ๏ธ Synced Lyrics
[00:32.74] An artist is what is called the self that the brush holdeth
[00:49.10] Though hath it then caringly caressed the canvas of tomorrow?
[01:03.34]
[01:05.54] Oh, canvas, for thee I hold my tool, still passionless it quivereth
[01:22.32] Minding not that my hands are more than apt
[01:34.47] My muse
[01:39.41] Where is hidden the blue-hued arch beneath the high heaven's rich emblazonry
[01:54.53] The flowery meadow embraced by the horizon, snowflaked and aery mountains
[02:11.82] In which the bare-breasted maidens dance to the lay o' midsummer
[02:28.63] Aloft the distant lazy flapping of the doves in vainglore
[02:41.21] Oh, canvas, wherefore canst thou these images not allow?
[03:06.84] I deem a projection of my theatre they should be
[03:15.58] Then I challenge thee the wisdom of naysaying the yearns o' mine
[03:23.20] What is this unforeseen that not enjoineth light shades
[03:29.18] To be skillfully painted?
[03:32.95]
[03:56.78] I thought that love would last forever
[04:01.35] I was wrong
[04:04.34] The raven sky preyed on by the snow-filled, blustery clouds
[04:13.59] Unadorned the meadow, hunger driveth the wolf out of the wood
[04:24.05] The maidens chained and whipped within a dreary dungeon
[04:30.71] And lo, 'twixt the wizen roses a mossy grave
[04:37.69] The devil is as black as he painteth
[04:44.95] Oh, oh, canvas, wherefore?
[04:52.82] The devil is as black as he painteth
[04:58.63] Oh, oh, canvas, wherefore?
[05:04.93]
[00:49.10] Though hath it then caringly caressed the canvas of tomorrow?
[01:03.34]
[01:05.54] Oh, canvas, for thee I hold my tool, still passionless it quivereth
[01:22.32] Minding not that my hands are more than apt
[01:34.47] My muse
[01:39.41] Where is hidden the blue-hued arch beneath the high heaven's rich emblazonry
[01:54.53] The flowery meadow embraced by the horizon, snowflaked and aery mountains
[02:11.82] In which the bare-breasted maidens dance to the lay o' midsummer
[02:28.63] Aloft the distant lazy flapping of the doves in vainglore
[02:41.21] Oh, canvas, wherefore canst thou these images not allow?
[03:06.84] I deem a projection of my theatre they should be
[03:15.58] Then I challenge thee the wisdom of naysaying the yearns o' mine
[03:23.20] What is this unforeseen that not enjoineth light shades
[03:29.18] To be skillfully painted?
[03:32.95]
[03:56.78] I thought that love would last forever
[04:01.35] I was wrong
[04:04.34] The raven sky preyed on by the snow-filled, blustery clouds
[04:13.59] Unadorned the meadow, hunger driveth the wolf out of the wood
[04:24.05] The maidens chained and whipped within a dreary dungeon
[04:30.71] And lo, 'twixt the wizen roses a mossy grave
[04:37.69] The devil is as black as he painteth
[04:44.95] Oh, oh, canvas, wherefore?
[04:52.82] The devil is as black as he painteth
[04:58.63] Oh, oh, canvas, wherefore?
[05:04.93]