Texty:
Dead Moon Unknown Passage

on the hill And a bridge out going down There's a city limits marker Of an unfamiliar town With my head slightly bent I can see it in the light Unknown passage

, one thousand times you will crucified The old woman is still wail for the dead, the old like paths of the people to wake up the dead. The damnation

unknown, the chaos breed Shattering the false, spitting at stagnation (so be it, patriots we are, patriots of sin) At night we speak to the dead, we