Song | VVytchdance |
Artist | Katharsis |
Album | VVorldVVithoutEnd |
作曲 : Katharsis | |
The wytches, wytches black they are | |
They feast, they feast upon man's heart | |
Their lorde has summoned them by spell | |
To gather, in his realm to dwell | |
Creatures of death, creatures of night | |
Conjure the endless evil force | |
Who knoweth no mercy nor'll give in | |
To those who seek to ban its source | |
The wytches dance in limping line | |
The blood of holy is their wyne | |
The bones of infants are their throne | |
They have no fear, they won't atone | |
Satanickrite shall find no end | |
To end all life, from hell they're sent | |
His great return, the only goal | |
For this, they shall reap ev'ry soul | |
So go! & meet the master's ram | |
Girl, come to join these women | |
Become his servant whilst thou canst | |
Drink blood, conceive his semen | |
Cauldrens are boiling, mysteries red | |
Of venom & spyces to wayke up the dead | |
Gathering hellwhores, | |
& then comes their lorde | |
Their dark minds shall follow, | |
Their flesh is to rot | |
Will rot in a dreame of his splendour&grace | |
Remember the sabbath, another one waith | |
Embrace lustful wrayths exstasy wet&hot | |
By nighte-fall they swarm out to head for the spot | |
Where altars of stone, blood-stained, wayte under trees | |
A place long forgotten, | |
So others can't see | |
Far out in the woods servants vyle | |
Have their shrine | |
To mate with their master | |
In nockturnal rite | |
An orgy of riches & infinite lust | |
Lorde Satan is gen'rous | |
Yet obey him they must | |
Doe all what he sayeth, most of all, | |
Bring him lives, their duty they | |
Followe by grim sacrifices | |
New souls must be draught, | |
Full of innocence & youth, | |
Into their communion, | |
Tonight it'll be thou | |
Initiation to unspeakable cults | |
So do what they wish, fuck the priest | |
From the vault & next, take the | |
Daggers & open thine veins | |
Some sharp lethall cuts, | |
Watch a scene so insane | |
The ground seems to open, | |
Thy body is torne | |
The knife-blade was poison'd | |
& thou art reborn | |
Coz out of the deep lift | |
The spirits of olde | |
& drink from thine pale wrist | |
& see what thou sold | |
The contract is signed, | |
Now thou art one of the wytches | |
A vicious black core | |
In a shell dead & colde | |
Inside the red circle, | |
A sister of lore | |
A knower of wonders | |
Unthinkable before | |
Thou slaughterst a childe | |
For it's the demonlorde's will | |
Thy pleasure is sin | |
& thy mission | |
- to kill |
zuò qǔ : Katharsis | |
The wytches, wytches black they are | |
They feast, they feast upon man' s heart | |
Their lorde has summoned them by spell | |
To gather, in his realm to dwell | |
Creatures of death, creatures of night | |
Conjure the endless evil force | |
Who knoweth no mercy nor' ll give in | |
To those who seek to ban its source | |
The wytches dance in limping line | |
The blood of holy is their wyne | |
The bones of infants are their throne | |
They have no fear, they won' t atone | |
Satanickrite shall find no end | |
To end all life, from hell they' re sent | |
His great return, the only goal | |
For this, they shall reap ev' ry soul | |
So go! meet the master' s ram | |
Girl, come to join these women | |
Become his servant whilst thou canst | |
Drink blood, conceive his semen | |
Cauldrens are boiling, mysteries red | |
Of venom spyces to wayke up the dead | |
Gathering hellwhores, | |
then comes their lorde | |
Their dark minds shall follow, | |
Their flesh is to rot | |
Will rot in a dreame of his splendour grace | |
Remember the sabbath, another one waith | |
Embrace lustful wrayths exstasy wet hot | |
By nightefall they swarm out to head for the spot | |
Where altars of stone, bloodstained, wayte under trees | |
A place long forgotten, | |
So others can' t see | |
Far out in the woods servants vyle | |
Have their shrine | |
To mate with their master | |
In nockturnal rite | |
An orgy of riches infinite lust | |
Lorde Satan is gen' rous | |
Yet obey him they must | |
Doe all what he sayeth, most of all, | |
Bring him lives, their duty they | |
Followe by grim sacrifices | |
New souls must be draught, | |
Full of innocence youth, | |
Into their communion, | |
Tonight it' ll be thou | |
Initiation to unspeakable cults | |
So do what they wish, fuck the priest | |
From the vault next, take the | |
Daggers open thine veins | |
Some sharp lethall cuts, | |
Watch a scene so insane | |
The ground seems to open, | |
Thy body is torne | |
The knifeblade was poison' d | |
thou art reborn | |
Coz out of the deep lift | |
The spirits of olde | |
drink from thine pale wrist | |
see what thou sold | |
The contract is signed, | |
Now thou art one of the wytches | |
A vicious black core | |
In a shell dead colde | |
Inside the red circle, | |
A sister of lore | |
A knower of wonders | |
Unthinkable before | |
Thou slaughterst a childe | |
For it' s the demonlorde' s will | |
Thy pleasure is sin | |
thy mission | |
to kill |