Tradition is like a light in the vault of time The red thread is shifting through Aeons Indestructible voice of fucking truth is whispering again and again
That memories... are our future !
From the East is closing caravan Through crimson sands upon the sign of lion Air is filled by spiece of Orient From Agartha seeking for purity
Wisdom is coming With its blinding glare
Bright like eye of God Magic eternal sun
It shines And washes away all dark
Dawn of Golden Age !
All corners of the world Are rised to create perfect sense Holy harmony of the space
Occident Sun !
Tradition is like a light in the vault of time The red thread is shifting through Aeons Indestructible voice of fucking truth is whispering again and again
Dying west, horde of knights Marching on to retake Tomb of God, Holy Land to keep the sacred flame Smeel of blood, scream in air Broken sword, broken faith Wisdom now dies in flames
Death of the glory !
From the East is closing caravan Through crimson sands upon the sign of lion Air is filled by spiece of Orient From Agartha seeking for purity
Wisdom is coming With its blinding glare
Bright like eye of God Magic eternal sun
It shines And washes away all dark
Dawn of Golden Age !
All corners of the world Are rised to create perfect sense Holy harmony of the space !
Occident Sun !Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
