To be the God - to be the Man,
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to be the power - not to be a slave.
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To be the Fire - to be the Hell,
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to be the Ice - not to be the wave.
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To be the Chaos - to be the Blackness,
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to be the Moon - not to be the Sun.
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To be the Night - to be the Darkness,
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to be the Blood - not to be the Fear.
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The hands of Chaos, the heavens burning.
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I spirit on it... my last sacrifice.
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The dark vails hide our faces,
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in bloody dreams I hear the breath of woods.
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To be the Dusk, to be the Dawn,
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to be the Free, to be the Spawn.
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High grass stretches its to the Moon,
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it's burried in the grass among the deep forest.
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The crack of trees is like the harmony of nature
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that makes me listen to the silence.
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I hear the silence, I see the night,
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my hands are cold like the breath of winter.
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The blood doesn't run through these veins, it left my body.
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The wounds don't disturb and pain is gone.
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The darkness is eternal!
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And life of the master of blackness is immortal!
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The hands of Chaos on the burned heaven ashes.
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In my immortality has been born.
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To be the Thunder - to be the Eminence,
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to be Silence - to be the Grave,
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to be the Sword - to be the War,
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to be the peace - to be the shit.
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To be the hird - to be the sky,
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to be the cloud - to be immortal,
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to be the God - to be the Man,
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to be the Power - to be the God,
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to be the Chaos.
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The Hands Of Chaos
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Nokturnal Mortum |