الأغاني: Rossomahaar. Crescent Moon (The Final Celebration).
:
In the vault of our fears we never wished to reveal,
In the kingdoms of our dreams we always craved to re-conceal...
We travel off the routes, off the common paths,
Begging to bring back our darkness, to bring back your sun...
The road goes further on the sulphurous domain
... Them, hunting in the night, we watch and join this precious quest...
We celebrate the moon with feasting upon our graves
The time approaches and the starlit skies grant us their holy burden...
In this neverending hunt for blood, the sweetest nectar of our youth
We rape and violate to reach self-perfection in an unimaginable ecstasy...
Tranquil and soothing is our withering disgrace
Trembling and momentous in it's misty, precious haze...
The death arrives at last, this is the final hour
The lunar spirits fade away getting back the faceless dawn
We reach the peak in our passionate endeavor
And remain silent swirled in approaching storm of flesh...
Crowned ourselves the kings of blasphemy
Climbed upon the highest of the thrones...
Devouring true wonders of this universe,
We are the bastard sons of ages...
In the vault of our fears we never wished to reveal,
In the kingdoms of our dreams we always craved to re-conceal...
We travel off the routes, off the common paths,
Begging to bring back our darkness, to bring back your sun...
The road goes further on the sulphurous domain
... Them, hunting in the night, we watch and join this precious quest...
We celebrate the moon with feasting upon our graves
The time approaches and the starlit skies grant us their holy burden...
In this neverending hunt for blood, the sweetest nectar of our youth
We rape and violate to reach self-perfection in an unimaginable ecstasy...
Tranquil and soothing is our withering disgrace
Trembling and momentous in it's misty, precious haze...
The death arrives at last, this is the final hour
The lunar spirits fade away getting back the faceless dawn
We reach the peak in our passionate endeavor
And remain silent swirled in approaching storm of flesh...
Crowned ourselves the kings of blasphemy
Climbed upon the highest of the thrones...
Devouring true wonders of this universe,
We are the bastard sons of ages...
Rossomahaar
Rossomahaar
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