Luyện nghe bài hát Forbidden Crypts

We the greasepaint in the air,
They stumbled into last night, completely unaware,
Clad in of mesh and with mascara on their eyes
We saw a keyboard and we knew they had to die.
They played a show at Inn,
From underneath the stage we heard the din,
They of forests, elves, and trolls,
The urge to kill them on the spot we could control
the show they all got drunk,
Apparently to a set that really stunk,
To the they predictably paid call,
These lords of chaos whined about their tour bus being
They of Norway and "the scene"
The sound of laughing Ghouls reverberated the trees
"We take some pictures!" the one in chain mail said,
"That's it." Cremator growled, "It's time these idiots dead."
scattered like rats when they saw Ghoul attack,
The drummer was the first to go, a hook in his
Machetes were sinking into painted
Carnage and gore soaking leather and
The keyboardist begged but just laughed
We hacked off his hands and then him in half
The was strangled with his very guts
His female back-up expired her cuts
Splattering brain pans as a matter of
Violently murdering with no fucking
bassist, to a boobytrap, paid a toll
His head having gained or six extra holes
The blood from his made a hot, steamy treat
We savoured the moment, then sawed off his
Both of the made a run for the gate
cut them 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 poseurs, we've made a profession
In our forbidden...
crypts!!!