At the eve of the end
The ink yet to dry on the writ of our fate

As the edict portends
Calamitous endings etched into slate

Dark clouds
Hang low
Fell winds
Will blow

New dawn
At hand
All still
No man

Mid day
Midnight
Omens
And fright

Casts runes
Scrimshaws
Draw lots
Turn cards

The crossroads lay near
A figure in black gestures you on

To a fortress of fear
And fate is its tyrant, this much is clear


The sound of a crier (of doom!)
The writing on the walls (of doom!)
Will you listen to the seer? (Of doom!)
Will you heed those calls? (Of doom!)


The sisters are crones
Cackling on as the mortals march paths
Littered with bones
Life is a reaper and we are the grass

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.