Song of the sorrowing harp Echoes through chapel walls They share their misery As their skin is rotting She walks through the forest And hears their serenading call On the eve of mortal''s dread The winter solstice had now, began Silently, she stepped into the church Unaware of all The angry dead sang the next verse Their mourning call She then advanced to the front pew With a guided hand They harmonized with mockery to a jew inverted above This rotted congregation sang their hymns With vestiments that represent the all dim Their rotting lips moved no more Yet their words still rang out Fingers now came out stretched To join her with them, in hellTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
