Cassandra Lyrics
| Song | Cassandra |
| Artist | Theatre of Tragedy |
| Album | Platinum Edition |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Theatre of Tragedy | |
| He gave to her, yet tenfold claimed in return - | |
| She hath no life but the one he for her wrought; | |
| Proffered to her his walking heart - she turned it down, | |
| Reposted with a tell-tale lore of lies and scorn. | |
| Prophetess or fond?, | |
| Though her parle of truth: | |
| "I can tomorrow - refell me if ye can!", | |
| Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo's bane - | |
| S?er of the future, not of twain, | |
| "Sicker!", quoth Cassandra. | |
| Still, is she lief and quaint in his eye, a sight divine? - | |
| A mistress fueled by his prest haughtiness - | |
| If he did grant, wherefore then did he not foresee, | |
| Belike egal as it to him might be?! | |
| Prophetess or fond?, | |
| Though her parle of truth: | |
| "I can tomorrow - refell me if ye can!", | |
| Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo's bane - | |
| S?er of the future, not of twain, | |
| "Sicker!", quoth Cassandra. | |
| 'Or was he an eried being, | |
| 'Or was he weening - alack nay mo; | |
| Her naysay' rought his heart, | |
| Her daffing was the grave of all hope - | |
| She belied her own words, | |
| He thought her life, save moreo'er scourge, | |
| She held him august, yet wee; | |
| He left her ne'er without his heart. | |
| Though her parle of truth: | |
| "I can tomorrow - refell me if ye can!", | |
| Yet the kiss and breath - Apollo's bane - | |
| S?er of the future, not of twain, | |
| "Sicker!", quoth Cassandra. | |
| 'Or was he an eried being, | |
| 'Or was he weening - alack nay mo; | |
| Her naysay' rought his heart, | |
| Her daffing was the grave of all hope - |
| zuo ci : Theatre of Tragedy | |
| He gave to her, yet tenfold claimed in return | |
| She hath no life but the one he for her wrought | |
| Proffered to her his walking heart she turned it down, | |
| Reposted with a telltale lore of lies and scorn. | |
| Prophetess or fond?, | |
| Though her parle of truth: | |
| " I can tomorrow refell me if ye can!", | |
| Yet the kiss and breath Apollo' s bane | |
| S? er of the future, not of twain, | |
| " Sicker!", quoth Cassandra. | |
| Still, is she lief and quaint in his eye, a sight divine? | |
| A mistress fueled by his prest haughtiness | |
| If he did grant, wherefore then did he not foresee, | |
| Belike egal as it to him might be?! | |
| Prophetess or fond?, | |
| Though her parle of truth: | |
| " I can tomorrow refell me if ye can!", | |
| Yet the kiss and breath Apollo' s bane | |
| S? er of the future, not of twain, | |
| " Sicker!", quoth Cassandra. | |
| ' Or was he an eried being, | |
| ' Or was he weening alack nay mo | |
| Her naysay' rought his heart, | |
| Her daffing was the grave of all hope | |
| She belied her own words, | |
| He thought her life, save moreo' er scourge, | |
| She held him august, yet wee | |
| He left her ne' er without his heart. | |
| Though her parle of truth: | |
| " I can tomorrow refell me if ye can!", | |
| Yet the kiss and breath Apollo' s bane | |
| S? er of the future, not of twain, | |
| " Sicker!", quoth Cassandra. | |
| ' Or was he an eried being, | |
| ' Or was he weening alack nay mo | |
| Her naysay' rought his heart, | |
| Her daffing was the grave of all hope |
| zuò cí : Theatre of Tragedy | |
| He gave to her, yet tenfold claimed in return | |
| She hath no life but the one he for her wrought | |
| Proffered to her his walking heart she turned it down, | |
| Reposted with a telltale lore of lies and scorn. | |
| Prophetess or fond?, | |
| Though her parle of truth: | |
| " I can tomorrow refell me if ye can!", | |
| Yet the kiss and breath Apollo' s bane | |
| S? er of the future, not of twain, | |
| " Sicker!", quoth Cassandra. | |
| Still, is she lief and quaint in his eye, a sight divine? | |
| A mistress fueled by his prest haughtiness | |
| If he did grant, wherefore then did he not foresee, | |
| Belike egal as it to him might be?! | |
| Prophetess or fond?, | |
| Though her parle of truth: | |
| " I can tomorrow refell me if ye can!", | |
| Yet the kiss and breath Apollo' s bane | |
| S? er of the future, not of twain, | |
| " Sicker!", quoth Cassandra. | |
| ' Or was he an eried being, | |
| ' Or was he weening alack nay mo | |
| Her naysay' rought his heart, | |
| Her daffing was the grave of all hope | |
| She belied her own words, | |
| He thought her life, save moreo' er scourge, | |
| She held him august, yet wee | |
| He left her ne' er without his heart. | |
| Though her parle of truth: | |
| " I can tomorrow refell me if ye can!", | |
| Yet the kiss and breath Apollo' s bane | |
| S? er of the future, not of twain, | |
| " Sicker!", quoth Cassandra. | |
| ' Or was he an eried being, | |
| ' Or was he weening alack nay mo | |
| Her naysay' rought his heart, | |
| Her daffing was the grave of all hope |
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