Black skies and freezing breeze from their souls Storm rips the roots of holy harvest Moon in our eyes, reflects the past life And darkness after the light
In the ruins of mighty halls There is a pile of skulls of so-called gods
Inhale the madness and memories so cold Our land of dim light, surrounded by ravens And ash of our burning home Tear down the gates of joy Absorbed into the black future
The hand of the heretic Legions of Haeresis The hand of the heretic Legions of dusk
This wind brings back grief and heaven is burning bright Faceless legions on their way Carrying the mark of the serpent Erase the past Let them burn Erase the past
Black skies and freezing breeze from their souls Storm rips the roots of holy harvest Moon in our eyes, reflects the past life And darkness after the light
In the ruins of mighty halls There is a pile of skulls of so-called gods
The hand of the heretic Legions of Haeresis The hand of the heretic Legions of dusk and terror
Let them burn Erase the past Let them burnTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
