The Countess

Lives in a castle on the hill

With a town of girls to beckon at her will

They come to help their families but

They die in agony cuz

Her hemophilia cannot be fulfilled

Down in her dungeon she’s got toys

She has their mouths sewn shut so they can’t make any noise

Ants and rabid hounds will bring the

Pleasure of their suffering

There’s nothing more that the Countess enjoys

They say she was just lonely after her

Husband passed away

But she was born with a taste for blood

And she would die that way

She’s the Countess

And that’s a fact

She’s the Countess

Psychopath

Over time her pleasure starts to wane

No longer satisfied by their pain

Maybe noble blood will feed

Her taste for immortality

She grows desperate as her own life drains

They say the thought of aging filled her

Shallow heart with fear

But she was a homicidal bitch and

Vanity was second tier

She’s the Countess

Yes she is

She’s the Countess

Rip, rip, drip, drip

The Countess doesn’t give a shit

Bathing in blood

As if it would cleanse her

Of all the things she’s done

800 names in her book before she would be caught

Board her in, brick by brick, and leave her there to rot

To face her own brutality before it would be said

Bang bang the witch is dead!

She’s the Countess

Yes she is

She’s the Countess

Rip, rip, drip, drip

The Countess doesn’t give a shit