Bathory
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All witches fly to me...

I have torn the veil of dreams,
Enraptured by (the gleam of) moon-frost's caress,
My heart is held in icy thrall,
The horned moon's sweet enchantment,
The topaz throne is beckoning,
The jewelled sword awaits my grasp,
The dreaming gods now grimly brood in
The silence of atlantean spires.
The sky is black with chaos-fiends,
Spellcraft rides with witch-storm's wings,
Beneath the vaults of time-lost tombs,
Sorcerers summon the shadow-kings.

All witches fly to me!

Witch of heather, moor and sea,
Come lay with me as twilight falls,
Grant me the black elven sword
And the draught of immortality,
The scent of night about your flesh,
Enfold me in this mist of lace,
Your lips grow red by candlelight,
My beloved is raven-tressed.
The sky is black with chaos-fiends,
Spellcraft rides the witch-storm's wings,
Beneath the vaults of time-lost tombs,
Sorcerers summon the shadow-kings.

And now the blossoms fade,
Lost within your dark eyes (I drown within those ebon eyes)
The sweetest tears I taste (glistening upon your lips),
This ichor of your kisses...

Weave thy dark spells,
'neath the bright moon,
Witch-fire is glimmering through
Sunken marble halls.

The black gate opens...
Blood sates the ebon blade...


Mirror lyrics:

Blood sates the ebon blade...
The black gate opens...

Sunken marble halls.
Witch-fire is glimmering through
'neath the bright moon,
Weave thy dark spells,

This ichor of your kisses...
The sweetest tears I taste (glistening upon your lips),
Lost within your dark eyes (I drown within those ebon eyes)
And now the blossoms fade,

Sorcerers summon the shadow-kings.
Beneath the vaults of time-lost tombs,
Spellcraft rides the witch-storm's wings,
The sky is black with chaos-fiends,
My beloved is raven-tressed.
Your lips grow red by candlelight,
Enfold me in this mist of lace,
The scent of night about your flesh,
And the draught of immortality,
Grant me the black elven sword
Come lay with me as twilight falls,
Witch of heather, moor and sea,

All witches fly to me!

Sorcerers summon the shadow-kings.
Beneath the vaults of time-lost tombs,
Spellcraft rides with witch-storm's wings,
The sky is black with chaos-fiends,
The silence of atlantean spires.
The dreaming gods now grimly brood in
The jewelled sword awaits my grasp,
The topaz throne is beckoning,
The horned moon's sweet enchantment,
My heart is held in icy thrall,
Enraptured by (the gleam of) moon-frost's caress,
I have torn the veil of dreams,

All witches fly to me...


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