He's standing alone at the edge of that night surrounded by blaze lights Staring the murk, distant and dense Where stories are yet to be told
At the back of a fable they ride towards crimson winds That blow away
Ghosts on the horizons of a story soon to begin On the altar of oracles runes are disposed Telling faiths and aftermaths On a crescent-shaped Moon in the dark of the woods Magic
As the lord of a castle in black, he beholds The abyss and the river below The glow at the end, a shine in the night An angel with death cold eyes
At the back of a fable they ride towards crimson winds That blow away Martyrs predestined to see their lights ripped apart
On the altar of oracles runes are disposed Telling faiths and aftermaths On a crescent-shaped Moon in the dark of the woods Magic
For the trail of tears forged by the seer Bare, unrighteous brilliancy Oh the Moon, witness of revenant fallacies “…Angel come to me…”
On the altar of oracles runes are disposed Telling faiths and aftermaths On a crescent-shaped Moon in the dark of the woods Magic
For the trail of tears forged by the seer Bare, unrighteous brilliancy Oh the Moon, witness of revenant fallacies “…Angel come to me…”Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
