They Come in Threes

They come in Threes,

Forcing you to your knees.

Matrons, Maids, These Daughters of Death,

Tearing from you your very breath...

They come in threes,

the Lost Ladies, the Furies!

On the wings of ravens,

Seeking dark blood, their craving.

Coming now, the flickering Flame,

Ever wrong and never the same...

They come in threes,

the Lost Ladies, the Furies!

Heads thrown back, sounding their screams,

These haunting harridans more than bad dreams.

These wing's heralds of battle fought,

Death songs in ecstasy, caring of naught...

They come in threes,

The Lost Ladies, the Furies!

Servants of Morrigan, come these Ladies,

Dancers of death, fierce guides to Hades.

Every cut, blades darkened in glory!

And the blood flows, lustful rage their story...

They come in threes,

The Lost Ladies, the Furies!

Striking fast, a tempest in the night,

They feast on suffering, their victims' last sight.

Reveling now in the rising gore,

The killing celebration warms their core...

They come in threes,

The Lost Ladies, the Furies!

Embracing their rage and filling their need,

Drinking their agony, this drink their mead.

Their voices rising with destruction,

Lost innocence bathing in full passion...

They come in threes,

The Lost Ladies, the Furies!

Cruel they dance, here with the Devil,

Suffering once, now Suffering's call.

Dancing this night to rend and tear,

Over unrighteous they will fill the air...

They come in threes,

The Lost Ladies, the Furies!

Know now why you fear the night,

Why these terrors fill you with fright.

In the darkness travels this pain,

Suns not risen, never rising again...

They come in threes,

The Lost Ladies, the Furies!

From the distance comes a tortured cry,

The last thing heard before you die.

They come not to me, only to you,

Those who punishment must ensue.

They come in threes,

The Lost Ladies, the Furies!

They come...

They come...

They come...

They come...

The Furies!