Through dun and weary times, under the curse of ancient ones we've been gathering the sour-sweat fruits of knowledge As silent ghosts do we wander in the empty halls of rapture while an evensong is mumbled for our confused desires Mephisto, angel of darkness You have deceived us we gave our soul for emptiness our wings for distress Now the gates are closed our own mind has became our dungeon Oh, how I wish to return to those scented fields of heavens We're pawns of a Divine Comedy being pulled on the thread of sorrow a false heaven awaits for us where the Devil slumbers We raise walls of tears around the church of our nothingness and we stand in awe of mightly shades till a new dawn comesTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
