Out of the fog comes a huddles shape
|
Cloaked head to toe in crimson flowing robes
|
It hunts, kills, eats
|
|
Unseen in sickening mists of night, some evil's lurking in the gloom
|
Voracious hunting appetite and piercing demon eyes
|
A mandrake sets upon its prey, slashing mangled claw
|
Soulstealer strangling terror, in crimson cloak it kills
|
|
Mortals who cross the path
|
The phantom hunts and kills
|
With a swift ferocity
|
The demon's carcass strikes
|
Death is his way, dare not cross his path
|
The phantom of the crimson cloak stalks the dark and silent night
|
|
A killer waiting for the strike, in silence you will stand in fright
|
Captured by its frozen stare, your body drained of essence
|
Predator of the pure in heart, sending all their souls to Hell
|
There is no escape from here, phantom horror attack
|
|
He must feed
|
On innocent human flesh
|
To hold the madness at bay
|
That torments his eternal march
|
|
Death is his way, dare not cross his path
|
The phantom of the crimson cloak stalks the dark and silent night
|
|
An ancient corpse
|
He's trod this worn path
|
Many forlorn years
|
Aeons yet to come
|
|
Death is his way, dare not cross his path
|
The phantom of the crimson cloak stalks the dark and silent night
|
|
-----------------
|
Phantom Of The Crimson Cloak
|
| 3 Inches Of Blood |
