Luyện nghe bài hát Sweetest Maleficia

I you Barron, Satan, Beelzebub
By the Father, the Son and the Spirit
By the Virgin Mary and all the saints to in person
So that you may speak to us and fulfill our
Come at my and I will grant you whatever 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 graver things

Alchemists and sorcerers stitched his
the stench of pitch and myrrh

The faded out but the pagan remained
The candles burnt low and still came
Bearing golden 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 stank of there

From the stained chapel to the lawn
In Caprineum on the
To the still lit crypts and the slit of
Sliding down the towers, it all fake

He answers not advice, intending to devise
A lengthy of torture for the fool
Who thought a seance suffice
Or sighted, dragonflies, the signature of Satan on a wall

Sweetest
maleficia

Alchemists and sorcerers stitched his
With the stench of and myrrh

Planchette to Blanchet, ghosts to a priest
Returning with a spider for the poisonous
The Italian Prelati, spinning sin

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

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

So I shall thee
of the netherworld

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

was right this wretched night
To etch the clear again

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

Entangled in a dream, the mirrors full of
He scarce could see Joan's reflecting through
His last attempt to grasp at God lay in a holy fog
And now there were devils to pursue

Gilles was in a velvet spell
Of hell and her

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

Sweetest
maleficia