Thanatomorphose کے بول

A smell of lust arises in the air Hail to the Mother of pleasures Baptized with the extreme sin Walls of Gold arises in the eyes Dreams of power and glory of the mortals When the Gods are forgotten We are the sons of sin Who down fall in this deep abyss Abyss of perdition and impurity In the garden of blasphemy We cultivate our fire Embrace the flesh And fall into temptation A smell of lust arises in the air Hail to the Mother of pleasures Baptized with the extreme sin Gates of Babylon are decimated again To bring to mortals vulgar relish When the Gods are forgotten We are the sons of sin Who down fall in this deep abyss Abyss of perdition and impurity