Black Hearts
(Misbeliever)
The hoarse voice the gloomy calls the damned ones you be
That polish of shade in shade.
The inside of the forests carrying its victims for the great ritual
The spirits look at in turn the agony and pain being dragged close to them
The panic takes possession of its body while the
hoist colours they drag in its direction.
You try to scream but the demons suffocate its screams
acclaiming for its blood and meat
Everybody sings on behalf of the forces that hide our black hearts
Entirely taken a bath in blood
They pull up pieces of its body
Its laments will never be heard again.
|
