They are the ghosts of innocence That have awoken from my dreams Welcome to your nightmare Say good-bye to everything All your past obscenities They have
never found Torturous ways whisper from the grave A slow spun song of distortion Bitter, bitter mouth Oh, spitin' out seeds of doubt Rituals seek root
cries, her drowning sweet hands bygone, waving and fleeting Dull slave to my mournful twists she bled, like a rainbow leaking Wax victims in a ritual
rest - invoking the sign Entering the lost temple in the sand Voices call my name and guide my hand Ghosts, ghouls and demons Quietly watch nearby Silence - hold your tongue The ritual
split it down the middle man Take the bones out man for real Yeah all applepie, yeah Straight up, Flipmode BK King thing Aiyo, it was the best heist since ice Precise rituals
a lock to a fairytale world That she guards with her ghosts of faithful familiars Who attend to her shrine in the patchwork cathedral Observing the ritual
darkened slaughter, a blessing ritual Cover the crucifix with blood The holy father nailed to the altar Torn are the christian lies Hear the ghosts
the living can't feed the dead Then the dead will come for you, yeah You better hold your tongue now, Salem 'Cause l don't believe in ghosts There is
the creaky floor Spill some fuckin' blood then I'm out the back door Takin' little trinkets, fingernails and pieces of skin It's all for my rituals of
Nightmare written by Rob Zombie and Charlie Clouser as performed by Rob Zombie and Howard Stern Yeah! Dig deep down on Planet Sex, yeah! Thirteen ghosts
I'm numb as a statue I may have to beg, borrow or steal Some feelings from you So I can have some feelings too I'm pale as a ghost You know what I love
sky Way up high where I roam All love will die Let the ghosts gather Wandering endlessly All of them old and new Let them all gather All hell your ritual
[transcribed by jon l] False echos By: jimmy buffett 1996 The skies over cuba turned pink with the light And the waterfront ritual began to ignite All
the living can't feed the dead, then the dead will come for you Sarah: "You better hold your tongue now Salem Cause I don't believe in ghosts" There
As the crow from hell Thousands of pure evil ghosts Take the innocent souls A dark image built their way As the crow from hell Thousands of sadistic ghosts
they bounded their way with the dead And in the silence of dersterly lounliness Praying the luzifer and his ghost And in the lounliness of desert storms and winds Rituals
involved in the cursing rites. There is also often a catchball phrase against any man, woman, or eunuch who might be plotting rebellion. Amongst the common people, the execration rituals
the white horse. Filing past the flowers and signs full of dreams, light of night filtering where woof tiles slipped, into that darkness. Each ritual