The black walls rise In the wake of reverence Echoes of an imminent tide Sounds across plains of black grain
I see gates that are closing A voice is calling from the haze Human soul enslaved Seal my bleeding shade I have visions that are burning
I see the masters portrait cold and dire His voice is heard far from the summits I feel the waves of a storm grow on my skin His icons are seen far at the summit At the summit, at the summit
Through the labyrinths of tides Frozen veins pervade the wastes Pale light unfolds from above As splendor reside the horizon Shrouded by saturn´s veil The path to my crest Red tears blur my sight And burst into the mountain
Wounded by the thorns of reverence Dethroned by the great perfection Dissolved through roots of redemption Shattered, broken and blinded
Machine horizon
I look at the sky The yellow drapery fades Saturn ascends As the collapse unleash the storm
I gaze into the deep As the tide is coming in I inhale the sea And the oceans turn to redTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
