Dissection

"This is the story about Elizabeth Bathory
Her blood is ours... pure Hungarian blood..."
Dark castle, occult carols sound,
Women... crying... eternally satisfied
Elizabeth did not rest this night
Her youth ensorcelled through black eyes
The dead girls are courting her
Upon deadly magic circles' lines
Pricking needles under ladies nails
Their frosted bodies buried alive
[Chorus :]
Oh, how I have to feel your breath
I lust to be lover of death
Desires become truths
Evil prayers are heard
By Elizabeth Bathory
the countess of my fire !
You are 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...