The Cruel Bard Lyrics
He wrote it himself in his perilous youthAnd nobody knows and no other lay tellsIf fate finally gave him a lesson or noHe was a bard as anyone else yet nature had praised him a gift of its worth - an irresistible beautyand charm of the lords, which he did not hesitate to use for his own goodPleasure he seeked and the inevitable pain, which eventually scorched his soul beyond recognitionso that it was never completely healed unless for the moments when he was alone with the splendour of nature and his love for the skyLong roads did he take and many a path and lots of young girls fainted away to his enthralling songs and caressing lips. Yet his heart could not find any place for a rest...(Oh) The cruel bard He wasAnd his lays were fairAs dew in the grassYet his heart was of stone...Thousands of burnt villages he left behindAnd thousands of hearts unmendedWherever he went he brought pleasure, then woeTo daughters and mothers and envious menHe knew it all very well, the cruel bard But, hell, he had nothing at all to disown So he just grinned as the devil himselfAnd all the women around lost their prideAlthough he sometimes did try to unlock his heartHid under strong chest of marble and snowYet he could not help loving anyone elseBut himself and the dark of his kingly bent browsLike a motionless sculpture of a pale heathen godThe bard used to stare in a mirror of glass And he was ensnared in the webs of his ownReflection of beauty so kingly yet cold...
Heresiarh The Cruel Bard
