While they are turning sovereign The mighty coils of the ancient one They draw power from the terror of your sleep
Your nightmare takes a shape in front of yu While pierced through by thousand lances You implore for the end of torment
Green forests craved by your heart While you lost in silence You suffer your ordeal
Invoke your strength, ye mighty And reap silently your harvest No desire, no relief and no remorse Just the eternal game of thousand notes Just the silence
Once more, the cycle restarts, once more THe torment, still the pain, you lie silent To the limit of every human conception Apprentice of an awful and solemn magic That it burdens on your shoulders As the immensity of your torment
The ancient glaciers are now in front of you And the awful cold insinuates inside your heart
The ancient glaciers are now in front of you And the awful cold insinuates inside your heart
Invoca Tuam Vim, Potente, Et Mete, Tacitus, Tuum FructuumTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
