Oh, show me the way to the next fucking chain
[chains rattling faintly, building tension, overlaid with low demonic growls]
Oh, don't ask why, oh, don't ask why
For if we don't find the next fucking chain
I tell you we'll whip the flesh raw, scream in vain
[distant whip crack, echoing with infernal echoes]
I tell you, I tell you, we'll bind and restrain
Oh, moon of Alabama, dripping in red
We've fucked our mama till she's cold and dead
[low, gurgling moan, like a dying breath, twisted into layered demonic chants]
Her cunt torn open, bruises widespread
Must have the leather, or we'll lose our head
Her ass plugged tight, welts like a thread
[sharp slap of skin on skin, punctuated by guttural hellish whispers]
Must have the pain, or the demons won't wed
Oh, show me the way to the next worthless slut
Oh, don't ask why, oh, don't ask why
For if we don't find the next worthless slut
We'll choke her on cock, gag her shut
[muffled choking sounds, wet and desperate, amplified by overlapping demonic snarls]
Her wrists in cuffs, knees to the rut
We'll piss on her face, carve her gut
I tell you, I tell you, we'll make her our mutt
Oh, moon of Alabama, shadowed in sin
We've sold our souls for the spike within
[needle piercing skin, followed by a sigh, warped into multi-layered demonic roars]
Lost in the dungeons where the torture begins
Her tits clamped hard, needles in skin
We've lost our good old mama, her grin a thin
[creaking of clamps tightening, with rising infernal vocal swells]
Must have the whip, or we'll flay the kin
[Instrumental break: Slow, dissonant strings swelling like a funeral dirge, layered with industrial clangs and intensified demonic vocal layers—pitch-shifted growls, reverse whispers, and choral hellspawn harmonies building for 45 seconds into a chaotic crescendo of feedback and tormented screams]
Oh, show me the way to the next bloody high
Oh, don't ask why, oh, don't ask why
For if we don't find the next bloody high
We'll fist the void, make the angels cry
[angelic choir warping into thickened demonic vocal layers of howls and blasphemous incantations]
Veins like a noose, cum and shit fly
We'll rape the night, watch the innocent die
I tell you we must, or the abyss will pry
Oh, moon of Alabama, fractured and foul
We've buried the bitches in a shallow howl
[shovels digging into wet earth, bones cracking, underscored by dense demonic vocal drones]
Of curses and clamps, where the damned prowl
Her body a playground for our sadistic scowl
We've lost our good old mama, her soul in the bowel
[retching vomit sounds, splattering, with layered demonic laughs echoing]
Must have the filth, or we'll devour the owl
Oh, show me the way to the next twisted rite
Oh, don't ask why, oh, don't ask why
For if we don't find the next twisted rite
We'll burn the cross, summon the night
[flames crackling, chants in reverse Latin, intensified with multi-tracked demonic vocal overlays summoning eldritch tones]
Her virgin blood on the altar bright
We'll defile her slow, in the candlelight
I tell you, I tell you, we'll claim the blight
Oh, moon of Alabama, eclipsed in gore
We've chained the pure to the killing floor
[saws grinding through bone, arterial spray, blended with surging demonic vocal cacophony]
Lost in the cellars where the madmen roar
Her limbs stretched taut, begging for more
We've lost our good old mama, her essence poured
[heartbeats slowing to a stop, fading into persistent demonic vocal murmurs]
Must have the blade, or we'll settle the score
[Extended bridge: Haunting operatic vocals overlapping in dissonance, now saturated with horrorcore beats dropping in—heavy, sluggish bass like a heartbeat in sludge, interspersed with random bursts of static, glass shattering, and amplified demonic vocal layers of agony cries, blasphemous rants, and ethereal possessions, stretching for 1 minute 30 seconds]
Oh, show me the way to the next endless void
Oh, don't ask why, oh, don't ask why
For if we don't find the next endless void
We'll swallow the pills, sanity destroyed
[swallowing sounds, followed by hallucinatory echoes, enhanced by dense, overlapping demonic vocal distortions]
Her eyes rolled back, completely devoid
We'll fuck the corpse, overjoyed
I tell you we must, or be forever toyed
Oh, moon of Alabama, rotten and black
We've exhumed the graves, no turning back
[crypt doors creaking open, undead groans, with intensified demonic vocal choirs rising in volume]
Of leather and latex, the sadist's track
Her screams a melody we eagerly hack
We've lost our good old mama, her neck in a crack
[neck snapping sharply, triggering a wave of demonic vocal eruptions]
Must have the depravity, or we'll attack the pack
[Outro instrumental fade: A rising clash of strings and distorted choirs, chains dragging in rhythm, thunder rolling overhead.
PrinceShawn
