Theatre of Tragedy - Black as the Devil Painteth

      
 
 Intro:

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    Dm  Em    Dm            C    Gm   Bb             Dm     
 An artist is what is call'd the self that the brush holdeth
        Dm         Em  Dm             C     Gm    Bb  Dm       
 Though hath it then caringly caress'd the Canvas of to-morrow?
    Dm    Em    Dm               C   Gm     Bb               Dm      
 O Canvas! for thee I hold my tool, still, passionlessly it quivereth
 Dm         Em       Dm                     C Gm Bb  Dm  
 Minding not that my hands are more than apt,   my Muse
 
 Gm       Bb          Dm                             C        Gm     Bb      Dm 
 Where is hidden the blue-hued arch 'neath the High Heaven's rich Em blazonry
      Gm         Bb      Dm                  C  Gm             Bb           Dm 
 The flowery meadow, Em brac'd by the horizon, snowflaked and aery mountains
 Gm  Bb       Dm                     C          Gm      Bb     Dm 
 In which the barebreasted maidens dance to the lay o'midsummer
 Gm         Bb           Dm                  C    Gm      Bb Dm 
 Aloft the distant lazy flapping of the doves in vainglore
 
 ( Gm Bb Dm C Gm Bb Dm ) 
          
 Dm                            F            Eb         
 O Canvas, wherefore canst thou these images not allow?
 Dm                 F             Eb              
 I de Em a projection of my Theatre they should be
 Dm                               F            Eb                 
 Then, I challenge thee the wisdom of naysaying the yearns o' mine
 Db                             F                     Eb                         
 What is this unforseen that not enjoineth light shades to bes killfully painted?
 
 ( Gm Bb Dm C Gm Bb Dm ) 
          
 Gm  Bb         Dm                        C Gm             Bb 
 The raven sky prey'd on by the snowfill'd, blustery clouds
     Dm                                    Gm                Bb 
 Unadorned the meadow - hunger driveth the wolf out of the wood
     Dm                               C    Gm           Bb 
 The maidens chained and whipped within a dreary dungeon
                      Dm                       
 And, lo! 'twixt the wizen roses a mossy grave:
 Gm    Bb         Dm                    
 "The Devil is as Black as he Painteth."
 Gm Bb      Dm       
 O Canvas! wherefore?
 Gm    Bb         Dm                    
 "The Devil is as Black as he Painteth."
 Gm Bb      Dm       
 O Canvas! wherefore?