Luyện nghe bài hát Sweetest Maleficia

I conjure you Barron, Satan,
By the Father, the Son and the Holy
By the Virgin Mary and all the saints to appear in
So you may speak to us and fulfill our desires
Come at my bidding and I will grant you you want
However and the curtailing of my life

He rise triumphant
All done up on a plume of raven
with sycophants
Sharing his cup amidst other graver

Alchemists and stitched his head
the stench of pitch and myrrh

The faded out but the pagan remained
The candles low and still nothing came
Bearing secrets from a cold malevolent race

He would have his demon, he would his vice
All save his soul was up for
Despite their not a single hair
Everything of witchcraft there

the stained chapel to the statued lawn
In Caprineum on the
To the still lit crypts and the of dawn
Sliding the towers, it all smelt fake

He needed answers not advice, to devise
A train of torture for the fool
Who a seance would suffice
Or sighted, furred dragonflies, the signature of on a wall

maleficia
Sweetest

Alchemists and sorcerers stitched his
With the stench of pitch and

Planchette to Blanchet, from ghosts to a
Returning with a for the poisonous feast
The astrologer Prelati, spinning sin

His fingertips were scented with the from seraphim cheeks
glamor and a hammer, cadaverous and glib
Commanding in a of frozen peaks

He would have his demon, he have his gold
Out of Gilles' soul was sold
mistletoe and the glistening snow
Kissing in the shadow of saviors

So I conjure thee
Demons of the

The air was sick trepidation, despair and desperation
Then he his covenant in blood
Now all was rich and tapestried, fragrant wine to mead
His new opened with a claret flood

Time was right wretched night
To the circles clear again

As a labyrinth of led a blind man to the stars
So too brought the dark
It's name was Barron, eyes like catastrophic tar, imbibed fire
fed him shredded infants on an altar full of scars

Entangled in a dream, the mirrors of steam
He scarce could see face reflecting through
His last to grasp at God lay blackened in a holy fog
And now there were only devils to

Gilles was in a velvet spell
Of hell and her

The assassinated days as a Caesar by
Barron spitting acid as his guide
Lit pyres where once dying embers writhed

maleficia
Sweetest