Текст песни CELTIC FROST - Idols Of Chagrin

What kind of race, lack of direction
Just how lunatic, to have a nature so deceit
Bewail my reverie, a gambol untried
Lure of carnality and silence in forfeit
Animals, enslaved to pearls of fictionalized worth
Creatures, born from caves into simulated mirth
I'm talking, Idols of Chagrinrney Into Fear

0 из 5 Оценок: 0.