Luyện nghe bài hát Forbidden Crypts

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