Spawn of hatred, spawn of sorrow Repellent even to the gods Born from a few drops of blood Their glance must not be met
Their footsteps echo voices untold Bewitching guides of the other side Cold councilors fed by disarray
They take him to the kingdom of nothingness He must tread on the decaying lands In his ears, in his mind, the hoarse whisper Of his executioners
Their footsteps echo voices untold Bewitching guides of the other side Cold councilors fed by disarray
Gazing one last time into the abyss He carries out their last commandment Lowering his lifeless eyes To the putrid, infested, eternal soilTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
