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Sybir
Dark Lunacy
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Locomotive is running inside the mist
The forest receives itโs smoking bit
Crouch into carriage, I feel the forward
And my destination, drawing to the shroud
Windows reflect, this quiet...
Grievances is moving, along the mystic rail
Unfaithful apostle is stays morbidly near
But I canโt feel the stroke, Iโm covered by loneliness.
Triumphant, my preacher, is calling to his mass
And slowly, dying children, are coming to your black
Cathedral burns in tears.
Redemption for all sinner lost in time.
Windows reflect, this quiet...
The storm, is sleeping, between the wood
Running, to grave...my funeral
Candle are waiting...the flame of soul
Iโm ready for unclosed the sacred door
And for, my evil, one thousand, candle...are shine.
Grievances is moving, along the mystic rail
Unfaithful apostle is stays morbidly near
But I canโt feel the stroke, Iโm covered by loneliness.
Every dump brick the sinner corps
Every out candle, sinner lair
Candle are waiting...the flame of soul
Iโm ready for the stroke of mortal bell
Window reflect, this quiet
The storm, is sleeping, between the wood
Running, to grave...my funeral
Candle are waiting...the flame of soul
Iโm ready for the stroke of mortal bell
Pierce my hand, whit ancient nail
My stigmata they want to blade
And for, my evil, one thousand, candle...are shine.
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