Luyện nghe bài hát Forbidden Crypts

We the greasepaint in the air,
They stumbled into town last night, 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,
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 show all got drunk,
Apparently to celebrate a set that stunk,
To the graveyard they paid call,
These lords of chaos whined about their tour bus small
They spoke of and "the scene"
The sound of laughing reverberated through the trees
"We should take some pictures!" the one in mail said,
"That's it." Cremator growled, "It's time these idiots dead."
They scattered like when they saw Ghoul attack,
The drummer was the to go, a hook in his back
Machetes were sinking painted flesh
and gore soaking leather and mesh
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 from her
Splattering pans as a matter of course
Violently murdering with no fucking
bassist, to a boobytrap, paid a toll
His head having five or six extra holes
The blood his mouth made a hot, steamy treat
We savoured the moment, then sawed off his
Both of the guitarists 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 skull was drilled
Slicing and dicing, our obsession
Of slaughtering poseurs, made a profession
In our forbidden...
crypts!!!