| The infected smell of a turning tide
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| Winds blow cold for the petrified
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| Who should glow up in flames and turn ash into dust
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| I can hear your prayer call, what a pityfull lust
|
| I see you faint, I see you die
|
| I spot a glimpse in the burning sky
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| I nail the book of which you feed
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| I watch you suffer I watch you bleed
|
| The cult is gathered for the final round
|
| The cross shall burn to the abysmal ground
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| But the flame that will burn shall never be seen
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| I can smell the future, the oblivion dream
|
| Chain of Royal forgotten blood
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| Is sealed under the rose of love
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| Whispers from the deepest core
|
| Speak of Revelation, the time of lore
|
| I see you faint, I see you die
|
| I spot a glimpse in the burning sky
|
| I nail the book of which you feed
|
| I watch you suffer I watch you bleed
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| Rotten blood from head to feet
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| They who doesn’t count their reap
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| The pride of what they do is shame
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| I shall walk the path of pain
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| Fear carved once in flesh
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| By the grails mighty nest
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| A wind bring fourth the greatest fire
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| A breath of Apocalypse as I desire |