The decaying ceilings of this rotten world seem to pose a little hazard to these creatures who inhabit them
These inhuman masters crush their enemies and built golden cities on their doomed skulls
Their twisted hands will press you to the earth and spew the flames of chaos
The great tide crushes against the rocks of eternity
The fruit of death A shadowed flower hide in a moonlight shrine
The soul itself holds a record of what once was and how it all beganTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
