Dawn Of Azazel - Conflagration Of The Mortal Soul lyrics

rate me

Open, oh bowels of the earth, conspire

Lay might to us this day

Cornica sound, the call, the horn

The intonation of intrinsic decay

Metamorphose, the sword thus am I

Of this law, of this will

Praise be to Mars, the thrust gives no quarter

Purified from that which is killed

Marching in arms

And the masses to expire

As all past falls away

Unto romanticized funeral pyre

Consumed, civil atavisms smothered by crimson red

Enthrone the lion, the lambs words shall lie dead

With this sword, transcendence I enthrone

"Vendi, Vidi, Vici", with this I slay my soul