Masquerade

Hecadoth

Compositor: Não Disponível

Somewhere, at the edge of the Worlds
The Black Angels are crawling forwards
With their hands covered in blood
They destroy the sacred earth

The scream arised, like a bird
The winds of fear has come
To occupy the Earth
Golden Bowl
Named the Eucharist
Celebrated by unconsious
Prevail by the scoundrels!

A golden tool
Taking You to my hand
After a moment i begin to doubt
After a moment I drop!
Broken holiness, broken faith
Blood on my damned hand

The Book of Myths laying on the tables
In the houses of ordynary animals
You are my legend
My neverending story!