P/Pallor Mortis/The Sound of Countless Plummeting Blades
The empire’s grace shall cease, prior to the utter excision Their numbers must decrease, by virtue of execution It be our duty to bloodlet, the nation will be clean Robespierre strides as a prophet, preaching with the guillotine
Chalice of the holy, garnished with apostle piss Dismissal of all memory, obliterate saintly bliss
Through your disfavor, reduced to a traitor For you lack the will of a warrior, succumb to the Reign of Terror May you oppose the sovereign body, by all marked as an enemy
Pry the eyes of the indictable Their ruin, a patriotic fable Fear shall be flaunted as the crest of their treachery Trembling, their necks shall bleed
His demise, the month of Thermidor His sight locked into azureTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
