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DIABOLICAL BREED LYRICS
"Dark Alliance" (2000 Demo)
1. Woods of Thorn
2. Evil at Heart
3. A Transilvanian Scenario
4. Nightfall in Shadowlands
5. Dream of Maia
1. Woods of Thorn
Beyond the green woods of elves where the clouds are dark
lies the woods of thorn, the land of fallen angels.
Entrance into this satanic utopia where hellhounds glutton
upon the sad remains of christian souls.
A future of total darkness, dark angels dancing in this
paradise of night embracing chaos and death.
Come follow me to the woods of thorn where angels cries,
where the sun burns dark, where the fires of hell embraces
every human soul.
Screaming white angels with wings on fire anticipates a
horrific death in vain, for trying to challenge the keeper
of these darken woods... Let them burn!
Witness count Blackthorn gather his beasts,
look at demons thirsty for christian blood.
Our devils have crawled out from the darkest depths
of hell, to fight for the expansion of this dark empire.
2. Evil at Heart
One last screaming prayer from the youngest one of angels tonight.
One tear for each pair of demon eyes that stares at him from the dark.
Chaos breeds in this could autumn night, heaven's herd of sheep infiltrated
by bloodthirsty wolves in disguise. The prodigal son hast returned to claim
his rightful heritage.
Dark angels, evil at heart, once banished from the heavenly haven.
Former brothers of light, now marked by the heathen screams of the raven.
Listen to the pathetic screams of christ. Witness the death of god.
Lord Lucifer walks on sacred ground again to ensure eternal damnation for all humanity.
The unholy battle has ended at last, in this ruin that once was to be called paradise.
White ones defeated by an army so vast led by the figure...Antichrist.
By the power of the mighty pentagram and our lord's unholy name, a new world
order innovated shalt be, by the sacrelegious souls of those who have fought
and died under the black banner of Satan.
3. A Transilvanian Scenario
Searching for my beloved one, under a blood red moon. In wide open hills,
where the cold winds blow. I sense him, near, coming soon, as a shadow
strikes down upon my face from above.
Wicked pyres stalking the cold winter night, guided by the lustfull
smell of young maidens bathed in pale moonlight. Innocent beauties
with filthy fantasies, waiting for the bite. Not unlike suicidals in
the shadow of the grim reaper's scythe.
Strong gently hands takes mine, shaking with bliss. Taking me to his
castle complies with my every plea. Where my bethrothed gives me the
final kiss, before he, with shining eyes is penetrating me.
Spellbound by the howling sound of the lonesome wolf's cry at the moon,
shining in the dark, yet open sky. The bishop asks his weak lord the
resigned question why, as he helplessly watches youth and purity die.
A majestic figure with redness in his eyes, laughing spitefully at the
frightened priest's pathetic cries. Pervertive slaughter under aristocratic
guise. The black count smiles, licks the blood of his lips.
A preachers demise.
He was named Dracula, said to be devil blessed. Great powers of darkness
he posessed. Pale skin of my neck he caressed. Sweet tasting blood of mine
made him obsessed.
Welcome to this dark empire of mine, transilvanian hills. To my blood
stained coffin, made from skulls of holy men that I have killed.
Faithfull desiples of god, with a lack of own free will.
Who visited my castle of mystic darkness and blood dripping thrills.
4. Nightfall in Shadowlands
I kill, inhaling the lustfull smell of death by the vampiric bite.
Such a delightfull thrill raping the soul of a bewinged creature dressed in white.
Forever ment to be the servant of my darken lord, holy blood runs down the edge of
my mighty battlesword. A pleasant obligation as the chief commander of my master's demonic horde.
Nightfall in shadowlands, a darken exile ment for beings like me.
Where I can do my evil deeds, without the slightest feeling of remorse.
Demons shalt dance in evil extacy, an overwhelming tribute to this dark side of the force.
I sacrifice, virgin blood fills my unholy chalice every fullmoon night.
Incouraged by her shrilly cries, I rape the helpless body to honour my lord,
and out of pure, evil spite.
Shadows of gorgeous maiden breasts paints my walls in dim candle light.
Soft feamale lines in spasms that pleases my dark master of might.
Such a horrid picture, reflected by a pale moon, shining bright.
Nightfall in shadowlands, hellish creature domain.
Offsprings of the true evil source.
Under bright moonlight, human lives disdained.
Mortals die for the dark side of the force.
5. Dream of Maia
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