Conquering emperor, alive through sheer hate And written on those walls, his morbid end For some just rather watch, empires in flames Hail to the lions, who feast their waning flesh
Oh, great black sun, no longer bows to you For it shattered down, watching your evening gown And praised be the witch, who incantated you From his sacred womb, high priest of ancient truth
Striking lyre with gift, summoning chords of Hell His favourite tune, folly of cardinals Nothing could stop such man, with madness as his cause Inspired by Caesar's hand, caller of the storms!
The great beat from lion's den It can't be understood, it's passion so strange Yet reign of fear and wonder through Rome Will light hellfires, accepting the will of Mars
"What an artist dies in me! through these eyes can devil see! seeking forgiveness, compassion and yet I found none!
They will fall! On their knees! Saviour Christ! Avant thee!"
What he played, was not music It sounded more like devilry Along his lyre, legions marched They gave their fate to slavemaster's game And on that day, those temples burned Eternal city lied in ruins He bowed to no god, nor do we Such power is dangerous! And we'll be never free!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
