| Elizabeth Bathori 
|     by Tormentor  
|
| ... This is a 
| story about 
| Elizabeth Bathori
| Her blood 
| is ourselves.
| Clean Hungarian 
| blood...
|
| Dark castle, 
| occult carol 
| sounds.
| Women are 
| crying, but 
| they are 
| satisfied.
| Elizabeth didn't 
| sleep tonight.
| She exorcised 
| her youth by  
| her own eyes. 
| Dead girls are 
| chaperoning her.
| On her deadly 
| magic-circle's lines.
| She pricks needles 
| under the ladies' nails.
| Their frosty bodies 
| are buried alive.
|
| Oh how I love to 
| feel your breath
| I'd love to be the 
| lover of death.
| Desires come true,
| coil prayers are heard
| By Elizabeth Bathori - 
| the countess of my fire!
|
| You are also sacrifice
| You will give your blood
| Because she must
| Have a bath...
| "Welcome my youth
| Alike before...
| More enormous 
| than ever!
| By the blood, 
| by the blood everything 
| are cleaned...
| Oh yes I've got the magic... 
| Yes I feel I fly
| I fly towards the Moon!"
| Countess it is your night
| You are haunted by 
| your wild desires
| Possessed by bestial lust
| You are the goddess 
| of the love.
| She's got insatiable mind
| She needs virgins 
| blood anymore.
| Her flames never die away
| She is surrounded with 
| never-fading glory.