"Underneath their skin and bones, some people, rare people, thank God, just have black holes. They're born that way, but there's no getting at it. No changing its mind. The black hole rules until the host is dead." - Bill "Kermit" Hodges
Thou shalt not open the eyes of the witch Thou shalt not open the mouth of the witch Bloodthirsty pagan rites expired in Devil worship This place gone sour, doomed
Bewitched, and suicidal Moaning in darkness for salvation Praying for mercy, let bladders go Primordial Horrors from the Old World Bleeding creeks, swollen buboes Slitting wrists, the kneeling throng Raising the dead, this Godly phantasm utters incantations to the skies
Bloodless, the death parade marched on A throbbing mass stretched all the way to Waal
Bewitched, unutterable horrors, Unzipping guts and lamentations The boneless queen in her charnel kingdom, raised shroudeaters from the dead The marching horde, the dead of earth Inhabitants of monstrous necropolis Gone to serve the Great Ones in the Null No death, no light, no rest
Bloodless, the death parade marched on A throbbing mass stretched all the way to Waal
This place gone sour, doomed Thou hath opened the eyes of the witch Thou hath opened the mouth of the witch A nightmare parade stretched all the way to Waal This place gone sour, drownedTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
