Besedila: Tombs. Winter Hours. Beneath The Toxic Jungle.

Existence calls for annihilation
Moonlit fields wait for me in these border lands
There is only one dream left to ponder
Final thoughts in this final hour
Vision burst into flame
None remain, nothing spared darkness devours
The wolf moon shines over blasted fields
No stars will shine in this infernal night
I can feel it burn my mortal soul
Torn apart
In this last caress
Feel it grasp around your neck