Omens Of Plague Spawned From The Flesh Of Time
Laying on the grass is how I spend most of these dying days
Face up, waiting for the stars, lost into the unknown
Euphoria hidden behind calmness of eyes and gentle words
Waiting for the end of an aeon to come
With moans merged together in a single roar
Mountains giving in and oceans rising in despair
Chaos awaits beyond, deep in slumber, still and cold
Echoes residing in the head of chosen mad men
Biding supreme I shall fulfill before this fire
Wake up and walk with us
With wings spawned from the flesh of time itself
Break through the waves
Towards the bloodshot clouds that render the death of the sky
And all things beneath
The stars will mark the birth of true freedom
Before you take your leap across the cosmic spectrum
Breaking the chains of our morale, free of guilt and boundaries
We shall become one with the beast that dwells inside
Come walk with us
I call thy ruin forth
