كلمات The Ancient Crown Of Glory

Sick senses and the arms straight out in the dark His silence, screaming without a sound Bowing his head setting the crown on the right, slowly turning The eyes of glory, the old one you never knew, the eyes you never knew Gazing from the shadow, crippled hands towards your skin Moving in for the slashing, rushing through the light The man is silent, yet the chaos overwhelming, serving the greater The man you knew so well Forcing your eyes to open, where lies Remains of the harvesting of the damned Madman serving hellish winds, the old man drooling, on his once own blood The eyes you never knew Ripping your wounds, who is the tailor Of these, macabre, senses of death Rattling your bones, from what raises The spells setting fire to the flesh The eyes you never knew Forcing your eyes to open, no remains beyond the harvest Madman serves the hellish winds Old man's ancient crown of glory, glory sathanas