Untitled के बोल

Forests of obscure origin A land covered in ice and green Where one is to summon the Satanic cult And destroy the path of man Lunar and spacial The wind strangulates the human flesh In a forest of necromancy And nocturnal art of isolation Speak to the purity of air . . . In the night's siren Master of the dark moon's shine Unholy Glistening and Bright As much as the land, a desolate utopia Beneath the twilight dawn Speak the the purity of air . . . In the night's siren