Luyện nghe bài hát Forbidden Crypts

We the greasepaint in the air,
They stumbled into last night, completely unaware,
Clad in shirts of and with mascara on their eyes
We saw a keyboard player and we they had to die.
They a show at Ivan's Inn,
From underneath the stage we heard the din,
They of forests, elves, and trolls,
The urge to kill them on the we barely could control
the show they all got drunk,
Apparently to celebrate a set that stunk,
To the they predictably paid call,
These lords of chaos whined their tour bus being small
spoke of Norway and "the scene"
The sound of Ghouls reverberated through the trees
"We should take some pictures!" the one in mail said,
"That's it." Cremator growled, "It's time these were dead."
They scattered like rats they saw Ghoul attack,
The drummer was the first to go, a hook in his
Machetes were into painted flesh
Carnage and gore soaking and mesh
The keyboardist but Fermentor just laughed
We hacked off his hands and chopped him in half
The vocalist was strangled with his guts
His back-up expired from her cuts
brain pans as a matter of course
Violently murdering with no remorse
bassist, to a boobytrap, paid a toll
His head having gained five or six extra
The blood from his made a hot, steamy treat
We savoured the moment, then off his feet
Both of the guitarists made a run for the
Digestor cut off and sealed their fate
One of them cried the other was killed,
His tears did no good as his was still drilled
Slicing and dicing, our obsession
Of slaughtering poseurs, we've a profession
In our forbidden...
crypts!!!