Black Moor

Fiend

Black Moor


Driven to madness,
From decent disposition
That this creature never came,
Is what I have been wishing

Chorus
(Fiend)
You're always around
And an axe would make you dead
Her compassion went unheeded
And the axe went into her head

Her murdered body
They came to exhume
They all heard her screaming
You inside the tomb

Chorus

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