| On the hill the ancient oak, she lives in the house of the crying eyes
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| dismal lullaby tales of her life. |
| blood… pain… lust and perversion
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| You can see her with her dark veil as she walks in the bewitched wood
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| the wolves sings when she pass. |
| earth bleeds under her foot
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| Lady in black… lady in black.
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| . |
| witch’s eyes… pale face.
|
| . |
| lady in black… lady in black… nails like blades…
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| Come to me child… my black heart awaits your innocent soul…
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| The blind monk prays under the crucifix of bones,
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| the undertaker polishes his shovel
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| Close the door… close the windows
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| leave out the fear and the dark cause she has come
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| to bring suffering and death.
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| Lady in black… lady in black.
|
| . |
| witch’s eyes… pale face.
|
| . |
| lady in black… lady in black… nails like blades. |