- cifra
Fall, white light fell
You fear, the point death sent
Rise the dead's awake
You, you like to find me in what's right
Like to dream me in hell, dying
We're back, we're back and for once more
Like to come in to want gore
Feel I said rest you're bad, forgive him
Rising, rot the one that's lost
Living out what's discard
Debating over what is right
You're feeding the guts, feeling the parts
Grinding the stone sentenced one
Fall, white light fell
You fear the point death sent
Raid, raiding out the one that lost
Living out the ones discard
Debating over what is right
Like to find me in what's right
