I/Inside the Sun/Slashed by the Throat and Cast into the Bog
The blood as it pools is cold as the mire The leaves on the trees are catching on fire Black smoke as it rises it darkens the sky Pteropine wings open and fly
Black smoke as it rises we cough out our lungs Terrible magicks beat death chants on drums Bog stench grows thick with meat stink on the air Insects swarm rampant feast on bowels left bare
Haematophagic magi chant oaths to the darkness Black tooth grin of trees dark spirits harken!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
