Vārdi:
Thyestean Feast The Fall Of Astraea Demo

Kneel, before the sunset of epoch Eve of omens gathers me to weep the fall of Astraea Seals, of shaped dogmas famish misery forges stream anthems, lies

Skins of mask are flayed and torn Abrasions and scars hide face forlorn Borrowed sunshine seems profane Sorrow drains frozen emotions Pale feathers