Stank lagoons with grasping claws a serpent have released From dungeons of despair and farce to feast on brackish hearts
The walls a tint of crimson fierce speak of vacant names Beheld by missive magot-pies, prophetic in their crow
In vested misery, thy devils damn thee black Not all great Neptune's oceans may ever cleanse your robes
For Weyward Sisters guide the hand, the hand that held the scythe To lands undiscerned in tongue, Cimmerians have roamed
Infidels of tawny hue cannot hide behind The cross that bore a bastard child and reigns in fiery fear
No ends of earth may stifle choirs oracular from magot-pies Perched upon a hungry vault to witness serpent's jaws
Mandibles, sabre-lined, ruthless tear through flesh Grant the mercy shown to those in dungeons of the past
Forsaken hymn cacophonous concluded long and drawn To realms of stank lagoons retreats Leviathan to find reposeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
