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