Vrs. 1: The ebony clock feigned and scorned Spins the web of our lives forlorn The raven claws at the sins of our past Midnight tolls behind obsidian glass
Chorus: What lies behind the arms beckon call? An unquenchable pyre or nothing at all What morbid truths linger inside waiting? To taunt our future with the blackest of hates
Vrs. 2: 13 monks ascend the hill Torches illuminate the night ever still In search of reason they ponder our dread Shrouded in doubt they join the dead
Chorus #2: What lies behind the arms beckon call? Would you die to find it is nothing at all? Does the tolling ring for you louder each dawn? Will you rest in peace or in hellfire burn?Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
