Search results for horror story by 999

We've found 63 lyrics, 29 artists, and 100 albums matching horror story by 999:



Death's pointed at your head
Your mind on the trigger pull it
Bludgeon bodies give up their muted horror story
Scene of your rage
Death is not
you Oliver Cromwell, you who raped our Motherland
I hope you're rotting down in hell for the horrors that you sent
To our misfortunate forefathers whom
honor held on high 

A curse upon you Oliver Cromwell 
You who raped our Motherland 
I hope you're rotting down in hell 
For the horrors that you
honor held on high 

A curse upon you Oliver Cromwell 
You who raped our Motherland 
I hope you're rotting down in hell 
For the horrors that you
honor held on high 

A curse upon you Oliver Cromwell 
You who raped our Motherland 
I hope you're rotting down in hell 
For the horrors that you
First there was the fable of the bull
Told by the picador 
Then an Orwellian raping of a virgin apple core
An apple core, an apple core, an apple
handed my life by you
At least I can do is listen
Pull me aside, and step inside
I'll listen to your horror stories
Let this song be your motivation
You will be the lucky one
Who will see the deadly one
You will die on your knees
By the hand of Mr. Freeze

Will you see when the rest are blind
hunger shall be sated by the dawn

In marble ballrooms of delight
The erotic and the wicked dance alike
Virgin cunts aquiver at this foreplay for
honour held on high?

[Chorus]
A curse upon you Oliver Cromwell 
You who raped our Motherland 
I hope you're rotting down in Hell 
For the horrors
conceptually a different view,
And uncover the horror that we're injecting into
All our children's minds.
Born into a peasant monarchy,
A life of inherited
sleep
The story we are told is a horror to believe
How do we exist, rest and breathe
Go about our lives with children dying as they dream
Uncle Marshall!
Will you tell us a bedtime story?

Here we go...

Now once upon a time not long ago
There was a little rapper about to blow
But his
(Lyrics by V. Frerich)
(Music by F. Krynojewski)

He feeds on the ones that died in the battle
When the sunlight sets, he creeps out of his cave
to the slaughter

Now don't be afraid
Come and join the parade
For the ultimate in sacrifice
It's an old-fashioned story

Of hope and of glory
A ticket for
Tussaud's, a general's been disarmed

Feverish at Fleet Street, story of the year
"Get the Facts, House of Wax Photo Souvenir"
"Shameful" Says the Times.
A horror story

Okay we stole you from your mother and we beat you red and bloody
And we made you build a country and we never gave you nothing
But
Embrace by the veil of malicious death 
A story told of suffering, blood and pain 
Screaming of hate the demons now descend 
Smell of dying flowers
Uncle Marshall!
Will you tell us a bedtime story?
Here we go

Now once upon a time not long ago
There was a little rapper about to blow
But his
and scrub
I spy my journeys end
Black it looms, silent gloom
The castle called Avend
On I trot, past forest eyes
Past horrors of the night
Through
to the slaughter

Now don't be afraid
Come and join the parade
For the ultimate in sacrifice
It's an old-fashioned story

Of hope and of glory
A ticket for
Or your God of make believe

You speak to the sky and no one answers back
And yet you wager the word of God is fact
The horrors we imagine in vivid clarity
Let me tell you a story
happened to me
that changed my life
and will chill the blood in your veins
Lonely I was roaming
unaware of what could
How the story rolls
Magic's taught and history's told
A glory hole
Which through gazed her eyes of gold
Those veins run cold
Mystery's wife evades
The truth of the story
The Vishual, I wish you all

The better end of all to come
The truth be now here one by one
I am to extend to none
The memory