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  • 作曲 : Boondox, Kuma
    In the belly of the beast, a place thats miles away
    In a deep southern town where the devil comes to pray
    A choir sings with their eyes sewn shut
    By a stream the children playing, water flowing with blood
    The pastor stands on his pulpit, while preaching of hell
    On the hilltop church with demons ringing the bells
    They toll twice for the missing and the recently departed
    In the pews the congragation sits a hundred days rotted
    Suffering is all around the stench of death in the air
    Nobody seems to notice or nobody seems to care
    Its just an everyday life and a normal routine
    People walking right by, but never notice the screams
    A backwoods philosophy passed down thru the ages generations of murder, written down in these pages
    of a book overlooked and forgotten in history
    a place where the secret is surrounded by mystery
    I can hear them screaming thru the forest at night!
    They pray with snakes. . . and they poison my mind!
    I can hear them screaming thru the forest at night!
    They pray with snakes. . . and they poison my mind!
    Was it a curse or a sickness that raised in the minds,
    of these sacreligous hillbillies raised with the swine?
    No remorse in the soul and their hearts pitch black
    thirsty for the blood hound murder contact
    Feasting on the brains of the ones they call sinners
    Cousin cletus in the kitchen carving torsos for dinner
    In a barn on a meat hook bodies are hanging,
    in a cellar by a chain more bodies are swinging!
    And in the fields like a scene from a no parking lot
    Abandoned for so many years cars start to rot
    And buried in the garden in a hole dug deep
    all the bones and belongings all piled in a heep
    Ungodly sounds of torture echo thru the trees
    The screams of suffering still blowing in the breeze
    Not on any map undiscovered, never surveyed
    the secrets of a small town kept locked away. . .
    I can hear them screaming thru the forest at night!
    They pray with snakes. . . and they poison my mind!
    I can hear them screaming thru the forest at night!
    They pray with snakes. . . and they poison my mind!
    (On just about any warm afternoon you can find a weathered looking white haired man wondering the hills searching for poisonous snakes, not to kill, but to bring back with him. . . to church. . .he is a serpent handler)
    I can hear them screaming thru the forest at night!
    They pray with snakes. . . and they poison my mind!
    I can hear them screaming thru the forest at night!
    They pray with snakes. . . and they poison my mind!
  • 作曲 : Boondox, Kuma
    In the belly of the beast, a place thats miles away
    In a deep southern town where the devil comes to pray
    A choir sings with their eyes sewn shut
    By a stream the children playing, water flowing with blood
    The pastor stands on his pulpit, while preaching of hell
    On the hilltop church with demons ringing the bells
    They toll twice for the missing and the recently departed
    In the pews the congragation sits a hundred days rotted
    Suffering is all around the stench of death in the air
    Nobody seems to notice or nobody seems to care
    Its just an everyday life and a normal routine
    People walking right by, but never notice the screams
    A backwoods philosophy passed down thru the ages generations of murder, written down in these pages
    of a book overlooked and forgotten in history
    a place where the secret is surrounded by mystery
    I can hear them screaming thru the forest at night!
    They pray with snakes. . . and they poison my mind!
    I can hear them screaming thru the forest at night!
    They pray with snakes. . . and they poison my mind!
    Was it a curse or a sickness that raised in the minds,
    of these sacreligous hillbillies raised with the swine?
    No remorse in the soul and their hearts pitch black
    thirsty for the blood hound murder contact
    Feasting on the brains of the ones they call sinners
    Cousin cletus in the kitchen carving torsos for dinner
    In a barn on a meat hook bodies are hanging,
    in a cellar by a chain more bodies are swinging!
    And in the fields like a scene from a no parking lot
    Abandoned for so many years cars start to rot
    And buried in the garden in a hole dug deep
    all the bones and belongings all piled in a heep
    Ungodly sounds of torture echo thru the trees
    The screams of suffering still blowing in the breeze
    Not on any map undiscovered, never surveyed
    the secrets of a small town kept locked away. . .
    I can hear them screaming thru the forest at night!
    They pray with snakes. . . and they poison my mind!
    I can hear them screaming thru the forest at night!
    They pray with snakes. . . and they poison my mind!
    (On just about any warm afternoon you can find a weathered looking white haired man wondering the hills searching for poisonous snakes, not to kill, but to bring back with him. . . to church. . .he is a serpent handler)
    I can hear them screaming thru the forest at night!
    They pray with snakes. . . and they poison my mind!
    I can hear them screaming thru the forest at night!
    They pray with snakes. . . and they poison my mind!