With a last croaking gasp, I came to you in darkest hour Weak limbs, nearly dead, my misty way seemed endless to me
An anguished path in dark bohemian woods Hope to escape the Miasma track
Hear my words, don't retreat, while others fall I've got salvation Through the banned mile I crept, hunted by eyes, I surely know too well
My wounded bones haven't failed till now Against the time that clasped my beloved Sentenced to death by the fog of deceased Like a merciless storm of hellish rage
By the life of mine, give me the dear serum Blessed be thy name, in the coming days of our recovery
In the days of joy, when a cold wind will arise To scour the land and blow the stench awayTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
