Sorrows Of The Moon Lyrics - Celtic Frost

This evening the moon dreams more lazily 

As some fair woman, lost in cushions deep 

With gentle hand caresses listlessly 

The contour of her breasts before she sleeps 

On velvet backs of avalanches soft 

She often lies enraptured as she dies 

And gazes on white visions aloft 

Which like a blossoming to heaven rise 

When sometimes on this globe, in indolence 

She lets a secret tear drop down, by chance 

A poet, set against oblivion 

Takes in his hand this pale and furtive tear 

This opal drop where rainbow hues appear 

And hides it in his breast far from the sun 

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