In Chasms Deep - Corpse In The Wytch Elm | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• In Chasms Deep
• Corpse In The Wytch Elm

Year forty-three, sun painted red, 4 men unbeknown
A murder foul, a broken shell, a breez of fetid rot
They came upon a sickly corpse, deep betwixt an elm
Her dead eye glare, her mangled hair, brought light her cursed fate.

Murder hatred hopless evil vision plot
Revenge, Slaughter, Purpose clear, yet rage unknown
Murder, Hatred never to be recognized
Revenge, Slaughter, filthy soul, yet three from charge

Who put poor Bella so deep in the wytch elm?
No fame in live, but her daoth is immortal.

A corpse with a name, but no face to still prove it
No funeral, for desolate victim.

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