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