The White Cold Body Of The Pre-mortal Song

Mystical Gate

Mortal dance, damned cry
Rotten brain, pulsing in a rhythm
Music of death, pulls you in a grave
Music of pain, rhythm of Hell

Nerves feel, harmony in an unpleasant smell
Stormy petrel of a song, song of death

Empty eyehole is winking to the conductor
this song of torture and pain

The white cold body of
The pre-mortal song

Rises up from the hell
Breaks through the Earth

And all over obey the Lord
And pains comes through ears to brain
And you hear song like the wind
That orchestra plays the song of death

Yes! Music of death
Yes! Music of pain

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