Luyện nghe bài hát The Twisted Nails Of Faith

{Mirror, on the wall
Shouldest not grave be my all?
For if I shall see thy will be
me the witchcraft of thy tongue}

Three Moon dials in the shadow of six
As soul passed to the grasping Styx
Clutching their crucifix
blew from caves in a dissonant surge
Omens of corruption from the church
A fetid, dank oasis clung to full rebirth

Alone as a cold altar
The and its keep
Like dominion rose
A to the snowy peaks
reclined the Countess
Limbs purring the kill

in virgin white and like the night
Alive and young and
Was it the cry of a
That broke the silver thread of thoughts?
Of her life as a mere
As the Moon's in narrow caught
That opened like eyelids on
The sigh of the that the wind fell upon

Like a siren song
the lilt of choirs choking
Where the dead

To the sorceress and her channel
She swept from ebony at the hour of Mars
'Neath a stars in woven sky latticed by
To unbind knotted reins that in canter, despair
Shod on melancholy, fleet to there
In nether tethered where onyx idols stared

Was it the kiss of the
That peopled the air with the prowess of
Lost souls begging
From gods their forest plinths
Whose epitaphs read of to win
from despair through a holocaust of sin

In a tongue hilted in rectums
Over signs and seals, the prayed
To death, to rend the veil
That ancient ones might rise

As swelled
The countess to masturbating with her dagger
As the witch spells
Cumming roses all the way to Hell
As sudden grew harangue
Announced two worlds
Exuding bane, something
With the stench of graves
To these
Who shrank from horror
That the growls of mating ghouls

Resplendent, in
Natal trophies from bellies of desanctified nuns
A demon, bewigged, in scum
their circle seeking entry to run
An arctic tongue her vulva
Where smeared to alabaster thighs
like a contract in the purse of a whore
Receiving sole communion from the body of

{If is what thou craves, foul fiend
I will yield this witch to
If thou wouldst a veil for me
O'er scars of age and grief}

As the demon foetid vows
And his prey away
In talons to perpetrate
The nausea of rape
The Sorceress in his grasp
Spat a final curse to
The with the promise
That her lord at war would be slain
And she would rot alone,

On the nails of faith
...