Breastfed red dementias Familiar with their suckled hostess Unhinge her bridle scold A quest for misadventure Wrests her glare of buckled gnosis From bloodstained floor to holy centrefold
Death is tensing to explode
Inquisitioners sought her Scenting the bent in her veins Stripped and readied for torture Enslaved to shame
The fist of humanity taught her Scissors and spiked tourniquet Dionysian daughter Pressed to confess from the pain
I say "Toll the demon bell The rotting hearts of Man Shall light the path from Hell"
Vestial desecrators Familiar with her secret ewers Soon tied to licking flame Rest their 'tests' fir kater As sweet revebge frin reejubg sewers Ybciuks abd skudes amidst this unfair game
A Storm is rolling in Unleash the fucking curse... Calling the fallen Crawling from the shadows of God
Now their tables turn, blind faith learns Papal sermons oft have lied Save that the coven the Black Goat governs Is very much wide-eved, alive
She summons prool On virulent wings, a plague is coiming Cuntfire-hoofed From mating with the Devil On the torchlit Brocken
Baphometic by design
A penchant vent for vengeance Cut deep by horrors fought Those dungeon-screams for mercy Shalt keep for everybody
Nine circles down they heard her Ten times the hecatomb A thousand souls for those church-murdered Dark ken align to render doom
Their punishment overdue
Striking unbiblical chords that roar Invoke raw branded skies As forked lightning feeds the hordes of war Her broken hands revive
For sisters, missed, once powerless Toungues torn out by the root Fell whispers rose to a seething congress Of spirits born for Death's pursuit
Never a dusk so drunk on lust Caressed the cobbles red Frights she called, the flights of Ghouls Left little of their brittle flesh
Judgment night descended Like the bonfire's fall of ashes
Inquisitioners slaughtered Venting the dent in her brain Stripped and readied, debauchers Prepared to stain
The gist of humanity taught her Intolerance, murder in vein Dionysian daugher Soon to deliver the pain
I say "Toll the demon bell The rotting hearts of Man Shall light the path from Hell"
And refreshed of this dementia Their thumbscrews, Pears and cruel whiplashes She turns her craft To the next fat sacret groveTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
