Idioma Origen:
A dark mist hanging over the sky
Unholy rites look in to the flame
Screams of vain
A crying voice calls me
And take me away
I can see the end
But still I feed my dreams
With bleeding hands
The night of the storm
Into your soul
Hellfire tries to deceive you
The night of the storm
Into your mind
And now your last breath is mine
The secrecy becoms my dark mask
I turn my self in to the black of darkness
They chase my in shadows
And take me away
Idioma Destino:
A dark mist hanging over the sky
Unholy rites look in to the flame
Screams of vain
A crying voice calls me
And take me away
I can see the end
But still I feed my dreams
With bleeding hands
The night of the storm
Into your soul
Hellfire tries to deceive you
The night of the storm
Into your mind
And now your last breath is mine
The secrecy becoms my dark mask
I turn my self in to the black of darkness
They chase my in shadows
And take me away