Текст песни OPERA IX - The Oak
OPERA IX - The Oak слова песни
Текст песни OPERA IX - The Oak
In the whirls of time,turning their eyestoward the shadowy monumentalsymbols of the past,following the lines up to the places,where power and mystery reignsome people raised many stones to the sun( )in their imposing silence.A warm wind is blowing in my facemelting the ice of death.Burnt alive victims around the cromlec'hin honour of my immortality.Crucified on The Oak.My blood is trickling down itno light in this church made of treessome men in white are chanting their songto the altar of Cernunnos.Crucified on The Oak.Oh you, God of Moon,sanctify this magis ritual.In my heart there's the power of glory,in my eyes the shine of the sword.Oh you, God of Death, rescue me from this fear,I will be your messenger,rescue me from this light.