Municipal gray haze, pitch dark November Enclosed landscapes at the end of the tunnel On bare ground, in search of a direction A mutilated chance to life
The one, and the fifty-four thousand one selfsame cobblestone and concrete Sleepwalkers of the civil tyranny in repeating patterns, drifting past
Dreams put on hold The broken mirror, river of solitude Suburban cold colossuses shine like a mausoleum
Self-imposed isolation Away from the bloodlet streets With all escape routes shut Grønland thirty-six
Lead me against the current to the shores of the dark side to the secrets of Landfall Let's go down to the dark chambers and never again be found
Into the Castle from Drammen
Cut to the bone A stench of mildew and pudendum Torn from sound thought in bad intoxication and bad mood
Of free will, in free decay Let's give way to the art Uholy stimuli, arsonist of hate Prescribed destruction
With all innocence scattered With narrow-minded metal out of touch with time With obscure riffs from hell chiseled out by the Beast within usTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
