There was a time, when I was still alive. I was about to give birth, when my husband came with what I was craving for: grapes from the vineyard where a great curse was about to fall upon. While I was dying, the only man who would survive the wicked wine was being born. For I am still his mother and he... MY SON!
Man reaping the poisoned land The grapevine is the devil's lair There's no place for gods! The harvest feast awaits the folk
Drinking, mistreating, the feast has begun Twisting visages envenom the soul They're rising the cups One by one, everybody will fall
THERE'S ONE WHO'S NOT AFRAOD IN DREAMS HIS MOTHER HAS TOLD: "YOU ARE THE ONE WHO WILL END THE CURSE OF YOUR OWN BLOOD." DRINK THE WINE OF THE WICKED YOUR HANDS ARE HOLDING THE HOPE TO END THIS ANCIENT DOOM THE WIND IS BLOWING STRONG
The chosen son begins the rite His father is dead, in silence he lies Return of the gods! Celebrating the wine of the bold
THERE'S ONE WHO'S NOT AFRAOD IN DREAMS HIS MOTHER HAS TOLD: "YOU ARE THE ONE WHO WILL END THE CURSE OF YOUR OWN BLOOD." DRINK THE WINE OF THE WICKED YOUR HANDS ARE HOLDING THE HOPE TO END THIS ANCIENT DOOM THE WIND IS BLOWING STRONGTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
