Driven by malice the ugly sisters draw near
Emerge from the abyss, bolt on their brooms
Driven by malice the ugly sisters draw near
Emerge from the abyss, bolt on their brooms
Over mountains and valleys in mad search for fear
Crowing at the moon in anticipation of doom
The witches arbitrarily steering their branches
Towards the bridge of Tay,
where people are being anxiously
Waiting for the Edinburgh train,
that’s heading through the rain
To the very location of minacious decay
We’re the three ugly sisters of your mother nature
She might be forgiving but we fucking hate you (2x)
All them witches are flying like vultures
above the bridge as
They begin their incantation, franticly behaving
One conjures tempest, another stirs up the waters
The last one ensures the creation will cave in
Turns into a grave within few moments of torture
And the train torn into the deep
together with screeching men
That in vain are reaching out for a helping hand
They only hear them sisters laugh:
“When shall we three meet again?”
We’re the three ugly sisters of your mother nature
She might be forgiving but we fucking hate you (2x)
I name the number
I name the place
I name the bale (3x)
what pleasure to chase that train off its rails!
We’re the three ugly sisters of your mother nature
She might be forgiving but we fucking hate you (2x)
supported by
Psychedelic Crossover from the Swiss Alps
SDR 2025- Alle Rechte vorbehalten ®