Who could sleep in his imprisonment of the endless thousand years? Call his name and drive one more nail in a coffin of mankind. Whose images since the beginning of time come to us in the most awful dreams? They give a horror hopelessness in the farthest angles of our reason.
What secret hide the blasphemous monoliths of evil and hatred ancient depthes? That horrify even of the adherents and born by spawnings ill imagination.
When the rivers past and present will drain together, When black winds dispel ashes of Earth. When the abysses of sea bottom will mount from depthes And sunset lights a cruel chaos. His reign will begin.
Heavy chains will fall from his scutal paws, And stinking breathing will kindle rockss of his dungeon. Never say his name, wherefore even in imprisonment his call is strong. Don't attempt to listen voice of abyss and wait rescuer it's from above, thee will can't hear it, even when he will dismiss acute claws behind thy back.
Never say his name, cause in a subconscious mind he already has let the blasphemous roots. Hear his call. Call of...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
