Текст песни Nocturnal Rites - Eyes Of The Dead
Nocturnal Rites - Eyes Of The Dead слова песни
A mind of its own, spawn out of fireThe demon becomes a GodA child, two-faced and innocentTranscendingControl, fragments of nothingEnslaving, reversed humaneEmpires made out of nothing but airCreation failsHungry he laughs at us allSacred is noyhing no moreIn the eyes of the dead, at the edge of the nightIn an oath of blood we are sacredIn the eyes of the dead, still nothing revealedThe wounds they still bleed, and won`t healBlood in the sands, slaves to the hungerHeaven denies them allA god, a dome for its pleasures and lustPossessionThe falls prophets of nothingPromise but take it backThe one, the futile and venomous sonWill torture