| On a winter's cold and frosty morning she came
|
| Eyes were glowing red to all that looked at them
|
| What did she see, it was not me
|
| And in her hand were coins of three
|
| On her crooked back, the sack of crops she'd sewn
|
| Beneath the harvest tree, she stood there all alone
|
| And in her eyes, saw her disguise
|
| An evil woman tell's no lies
|
| Here comes the Vampire Circus
|
| Come taste warm blood from her kiss
|
| Enter the death wall of mirrors
|
| You'll die in Vampire Circus
|
| The woman passing steals from dead men's eyes
|
| The sickly village taken by surprise
|
| What do they need, the count is freed
|
| On little children they all feed
|
| Here comes the Vampire Circus
|
| Come taste warm blood from her kiss
|
| Enter the death wall of mirrors
|
| You'll die in Vampire Circus |