paroles de chanson Hammer of the Witches - Cradle of Filth
Breasted
red
dementias
Familiar
with
their
suckled
hostess
Unhinge
her
bridle
scold
A
quest
for
misadvenutre
Wrest
her
glade
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
spike
tourniquet
Dionvisian
daughter
Pressed
to
confess
from
the
pain
I
say
"Toll
the
demon
bell
The
rotting
hearts
of
man
Shall
light
the
path
from
hell"
Vestal
desecrators
Familiar
with
her
secret
ewers
Soon
tied
to
licking
the
flame
Rest
their
tests
for
later
As
seet
revenge
from
reeking
sewers
Uncoils
and
slides
amidst
this
unfair
game
A
storm
is
rolling
in
Unleash
the
fucking
curse
Striking
unbiblical
chords
that
roar
Invoke
raw
branded
skies
As
forked
lightining
feeds
the
hordes
of
war
Her
broken
hands
revive
Calling
the
fallen
Crawling
from
the
shadows
of
God
Now
their
fables
turn,
blind
faith
learns
Papal
sermon
oft
have
lied
Save
that
the
vocen
the
Black
Goat
governs
Is
very
much
wide-eved
alive
She
summons
proof
On
virulent
wings,
a
plague
is
coming
Cuntfire-hoofed
From
mating
with
the
devil
on
the
torchilt
broken
Baphometic
by
design
A
penchant
vent
for
vengeance
Cut
deep
by
horrors
fought
Those
dungeon-screams
for
mercy
Shalt
kept
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
For
sisters,
missed,
once
powerless
Tongues
torn
out
by
the
root
Fell
wishpers
rose
to
a
seething
congress
Of
spirits
horn
for
death's
pursuit
Never
a
dusk
so
drunk
on
lust
Caressed
the
cobbles
red
Frights
she
called,
the
flights
of
ghouls
Left
little
on
theri
brittle
flesh
Judgment
night
descended
Like
the
bonfire's
fall
of
ashes
Inquisitioner
slaughtered
Venting
the
dent
in
her
brain
Stripped
and
readied
debauchers
Prepared
to
stain
The
gist
of
huminty
taught
her
Intolerance,
murder
in
vein
Dionysian
daughter
Soon
to
deliver
the
pain
I
say
"Toll
the
demon
bell
The
rotting
hearts
of
man
Shall
beat
the
path
to
Hell"
And
refreshed
of
this
dementia
Their
thumbscrews,
pears
and
cruel
whiplashes
She
turns
her
craft
to
the
next
fat
sacred
groove
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