"This is about Urbain Grandier, a man of the church who lived in Loudun, France in the 17th century. He was doomed to be tortured to death and burnt at the stake after being framed by a false diabolical pact he was supposed to have sealed with the Devil and his demonic spawn (in the second Chorus you can find an extract from the original text). In my alternative version of the story, he was a just man and equal to all: rich, poor, weak or strong. Thus, even being so true to the pure original ideals of Christianity, he was accused of paganism and witchcraft. His stake wasn't considered an execution place though but a funeral pyre where all the people devoted to him paid tribute and mourned his passing."
A blissful maid has pierced my heart She's feasted on my soul A banquet made of flesh and bone So I was dethroned Like kings without shields and swords Like bards without their chords Now call the Ravens, light the fire To rot in hell my curse
Besieged by the flames - By the church declaimed Unholy will - Pagan I die, as a pagan I lived
The sons of Grandier bade command Hither to bring all the people from afar The rich, the poor and the sick were gathered Countless quite! As the priest was a hero to their eyes The wood smoke rose black over blaze And blend was the roar of the fires in the sky In heavy mood, misery they moaned As the sky was devoured by the funeral pyre
"Mephistopheles bring wrath Upon the ones who insult and stain the name of God with vileness and greed Upon the ones who torture and their cursed breed"
Before Decay's abismal fingers Brush against my brow And sweep the lines where beauty lingers I will pledge my vow Of all the villains claimed to live In chastity and need "A thousand times into the fire" The oath I now decree
Besieged by the flames - By the church declaimed Unholy will - Pagan I die, as a pagan I lived
A false diabolical pact was written In the name of Grandier and all the spawn of Hell "The love of women, the flower of virgins The respect of Kings, honors, lust and charming spells" "He will join us in our crusade And sin by sin he'll become the Devil's blade" In noble mood, dignity he owned As the sky was devoured by the funeral pyre
His eyes were fiery and yet so hollow Sixteen pints of water he was forced to swallow But he did not kneel, and vauntingly swore: "In thy gaze I see the eyes of Satan"
The sons of Grandier bade command Hither to bring all the people from afar The rich, the poor and the sick were gathered Countless quite! As the priest was a hero to their eyes The wood smoke rose black over blaze And blend was the roar of the fires in the sky In heavy mood, misery they moaned As the sky was devoured by the funeral pyre
Les Démons de LoudunTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
