| Elizabeth Bathori
| by Tormentor
|
| ... This is a
| story about
| Elizabeth Bathori
| Her blood
| is ourselves.
| Clean Hungarian
| blood...
|
| Dark castle,
| occult carol
| sounds.
| Women are
| crying, but
| they are
| satisfied.
| Elizabeth didn't
| sleep tonight.
| She exorcised
| her youth by
| her own eyes.
| Dead girls are
| chaperoning her.
| On her deadly
| magic-circle's lines.
| She pricks needles
| under the ladies' nails.
| Their frosty bodies
| are buried alive.
|
| Oh how I love to
| feel your breath
| I'd love to be the
| lover of death.
| Desires come true,
| coil prayers are heard
| By Elizabeth Bathori -
| the countess of my fire!
|
| You are also sacrifice
| You will give your blood
| Because she must
| Have a bath...
| "Welcome my youth
| Alike before...
| More enormous
| than ever!
| By the blood,
| by the blood everything
| are cleaned...
| Oh yes I've got the magic...
| Yes I feel I fly
| I fly towards the Moon!"
| Countess it is your night
| You are haunted by
| your wild desires
| Possessed by bestial lust
| You are the goddess
| of the love.
| She's got insatiable mind
| She needs virgins
| blood anymore.
| Her flames never die away
| She is surrounded with
| never-fading glory.
