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Thirteen cultists |
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Held a secret meeting, |
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Bringing powers of the darkness |
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Upon those who opposed them. |
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The cheif of the circle, |
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Known as Malchius |
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drank the blood of a young baby |
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Offered unto him. |
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They danced ecstatically, |
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The orgied frantically. |
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The demon had arisen |
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From the circle on the floor. |
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The chanting was much louder |
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And more piercing than before. |
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They are seven. |
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They are seven. |
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Seven are they. |
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Out of the abyss they rise, |
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When day sinks into darkness. |
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Seven are they. |
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Coven in charing cross... |
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Coven in charing cross... |
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Soon, a certain family |
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Living in the village, |
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Would die one by one by |
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The curse of the cult. |
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The head of the family, |
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A witchhunter named Mead, |
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had burned their leadser at the stake; |
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Soon he'd regret his deed. |
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Pain from Devil's we evoke! |
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Thirst and suffer til he'd choked. |
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The magic did take over |
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And the soul did feel the roar. |
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Incantations were much louder |
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And more piercing than before. |
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Born in the bowels of the hills |
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Evil ones, sources of ills. |
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Setters of unseen snares, |
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Death to all pity, all prayers. |
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Male they are not. |
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Female they are not. |
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No wives have they known. |
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No children begot. |
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The fiends they are seven, |
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Disturbers of heaven. |
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They are seven. |
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They are seven. |
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Seven they are. |
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Coven in charing cross... |
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Coven in charing cross... |