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Kaerulean - Jaded Angel

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Published on Nov 6, 2012

Official music video for the single 'Jaded Angel', launched 6/11/12. This video was produced, directed and edited by Kaerulean with camera-work by Hans Telford.

http://www.facebook.com/Kaerulean

'Jaded Angel' is available to download at: http://www.reverbnation.com/kaerulean

Lyrics:

Skeletal like beetles drenched in soft flesh; glistening with grease on the crest of her breast. Chained to the trademark of purity altered, a symbol of vanity dressed up for culture. Revoltingly reminiscent of romantic fables, a banquet of bodies laid on the table. Is she lost, has she left and do I dare contest with suicidal suitors? Don't know and don't care just drawn to the glare that slips through the cracks of her sacred lair. Lusting for love, loving the lust, the form of a dove is now ground into dust. Now ground into dust. The angel is dead so her dark wings have spread and the raven is rising.

Demons have raped her, the angels just forsake her, not like she needed another saviour. Mistress to mars, her Venus to stars, sex wrapped in silk the sinners slit. Opposite the sunken cell the consequence of wishing hell, the steps unto which all flesh fell. Is she lost, has she left and do I dare contest with suicidal suitors? Don't know and don't care just drawn to the glare that slips through the cracks in her sacred lair. Lusting for love, loving the lust the form of a dove is now ground into dust. Now ground into dust. The angel is dead so her dark wings have spread and the raven is rising.

(Into dust.) Skeletal like beetles, drenched in soft flesh. Glistening with grease on the crest of her breast. Chained to the trademark of purity altered, a symbol of vanity dressed up for culture, for culture.

Treasures of a crimson wyrm cradled in her corset. Guarded by cur. Less gems for those who pursue it, which i must love and i will have. Perpetual charge until i get my fill. Gentle as a bullet, calm as a storm, I'm devouring humanity carved from the flesh by a sword. Skeletal like beetles, drenched in soft flesh. Glistening with grease on the crest of her breast. Chained to the trademark of purity altered, a symbol of vanity dressed up for culture. Revoltingly reminiscent of romantic fables, a banquet of bodies laid on the table. Is she lost, has she left and do i dare contest with suicidal suitors? Don't know and don't care just drawn to the glare.

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