Daemonlord Net Of The Doomweavers
Drop after drop they fed the poison through others ears
Repeating rituals they had learnt with their good wills
What did those symbols mean?
What was the reason to believe?
Following old traditions, afraid of change
They never cared to learn, never compared
They never asked themselves, why are we right
Why are all others wrong, what's in their minds.
Many different people came
There wasn't anymore
A single way of thought
They never asked themselves, why are we right
Why are all others wrong, what's in their minds.
They, who had been so fine, so sure and straight
Now were assaulted by their own slants