Verse The beings stand on silent ellipsis Waiting for the meaning in the eclipse The air is warm; in black clothed The knife in hand to heart betrothed
Chorus The stone basin Fills with blood The victim laughs ‘Til death grips The pile of stones The ritual at night Consciousness is dead In the Blood God’s sight
Verse They worship the serpent of the roots They serve the lord of the out yards They are called the people grim Of their end we will sing
Chorus The stone basin Fills with blood The victim laughs ‘Til death grips The pile of stones The ritual at night Consciousness is dead In the Blood God’s sight
Bridge Worthless, wanton, worms to the crow Made to serve, to us masters bow These deserve to be removed from existence Followers of the dead ways
Verse They worship the serpent of the roots They serve the lord of the out yards They are called the people grim Of their end we will sing
Chorus The stone basin Fills with blood The victim laughs ‘Til death grips The pile of stones The ritual at night Conscience is dead In the Blood God’s sightTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
