This is a story about Elisabeth Bathory Her blood is ourselfs... Clean, hungarian blood... Dark castle, Occult carols sound, Woman...crying ... eternally satisfied Elisabeth did not slept tonight Her gouth ensorcelled through black eyes The dead girls are courting her Upon deasdly magic circles lines She pierce needles under ladys nails Their frosted bodies buried alive
Oh how I love to feel your breath I lust to be the lover of Death Desires become truths Evil prayers are heard By Elisabet Bathory
The countess of my fire You 're also her sacrifice You will give your blood Because she must have a bath Welcome my youth, a life before... More complete then ever... by blood Oh yes by the blood i was encored Oh I feel the magic...I fly towards the moon.. Countess it is your night You haunted by your wild desires Posessed by bestial lust You are the godess of the love
Oh ,how I love... [REPEAT]
Her mind is insatiable She craves virgins blood evermore Her flames will never die... Surrounded by infernal glory