| In the belly of the beast a place that’s miles away
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| In a deep southern town where the devil comes to pray
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| A choir sings with their eyes sown shut
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| By the stream children playing water flowin with blood
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| The pastor stands on his pulpit while preachin to hell
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| On the hilltop church with demons ringing the bell
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| They tolled twice for the missing and the recently departed
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| In the pews the congregation sits a 100 days rotted
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| Suffering is all around us, stench of death in the air
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| Nobody seems to notice or nobody seems to care
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| Its just an everyday life an a normal routine
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| People walkin' right by but never notice the screams
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| A backwoods philosophy passed down through the ages
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| Generation of murder written down in these pages
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| Of a book overlooked and forgotten in history
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| A place where the secret is surrounded by mystery
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| I can hear them screaming through the forest at night
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| They pray with snakes and they poisons my mind
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| I can hear them screaming through the forest at night
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| They pray with snakes and they poisons my mind
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| Was it a curse or a sickness that is raised in the minds
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| Of these sac-religious hillbillies raised with the swine
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| No remorse in their souls and their heart is pitch black
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| Thirsty for the blood hound murdered contact
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| Feasting on the brain of the ones they call sinners'
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| Cousin Cletus in the kitchen carvin torsos for dinner
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| In the barn, on the meathooks, bodies are hanging
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| In the cellar by a chain more bodies are swingin'
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| And in the field lies a scene from an old parkin lot
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| Abandoned for so many years cars left to rot
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| And buried in the garden in a hole dug deep
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| All the bones and the belongings all piled in a heap
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| Ungodly sounds of torture echo through the trees
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| The screams suffering still blowing in the breeze
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| Not on any map undiscovered never surveyed
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| Secrets of a small town kept locked away |