| Welcome, little children
|
| At play among the tombs
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| A trail of treats will lead you
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| Into candy covered rooms
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| Granite pestles crush their tiny pelvises to dust
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| Smashing with unholy lust
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| You and your burnout friends
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| Were suckered by the witch’s tale
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| Caves replete with the devil’s leaf
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| And a map for sale
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| So, to the catacombs
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| With plunder as your goal
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| Stumble bums, trap door sprung,
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| You were knocked out cold
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| Welcome, lonely traveler
|
| Engaged in self-abuse
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| Your love of iron maidens
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| Will be put to grisly use
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| Piercing shrieks of torture from behind a metal mask
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| Blood collects in oaken casks
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| You hear a muffled scream
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| Through a freshly mortared crypt
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| Slimy tendrils coat the walls
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| Where the coffin juices drip
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| A filthy denim vest
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| You find abandoned on the chamber floor
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| Mortal fear; |
| your blood runs cold
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| At the sound of the creaking door
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| The screams of your friends echo from afar
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| Panicked, you race through the torch-lit halls
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| Into the abattoir
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| Kill! |
| Kill! |
| Kill!
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| You fall to your knees
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| In the human debris
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| And we chortle at your feeble cries
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| You kick and you scream
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| As you’re dragged 'cross the floor
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| No mercy, no pity, you’re destined to die
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| In our inner sanctum
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| Chained to the floor of a catacomb cell
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| In our inner sanctum
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| You will be wracked with the tortures of Hell
|
| In our inner sanctum
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| Tears stream from your bloodshot eyes
|
| In our inner sanctum
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| Die! |