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 and we knew 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 on the spot we barely could control
After the they all got drunk,
Apparently to celebrate a set really stunk,
To the graveyard they predictably call,
These lords of chaos whined about tour bus being small
They of Norway and "the scene"
The sound of laughing reverberated through the trees
"We should take some pictures!" the one in mail said,
"That's it." growled, "It's time these idiots were dead."
scattered like rats when they saw Ghoul attack,
The drummer was the first to go, a in his back
Machetes were into painted flesh
Carnage and gore leather and mesh
The keyboardist begged but Fermentor just
We hacked off his and then chopped 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 no fucking remorse
bassist, to a boobytrap, paid a toll
His head having gained five or six extra
The blood from his mouth a hot, steamy treat
We savoured the moment, then off his feet
Both of the guitarists made a run for the
Digestor cut them off and sealed fate
One of them cried the other was killed,
His tears did no good as his skull was still
Slicing and dicing, our obsession
Of slaughtering poseurs, we've made a
In our forbidden...
crypts!!!