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• Artiste: Astarte
• Titre: The Ring (Of Sorrow)
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
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Silence is written behind icons Icons, keep the secret of horror Whispers, reach your fear inside conscious Horror, rings deadly horizon Nails Surrounds your body Into the area of sketched delusions Orama of my end, which will be eternal And the smoke of dust will swallow my eyes Fear to think the moment of my death Mad along with body shall burry me What matters, is the end What kills, will soon come A face will rot my will A child shall meet me here Ring of Sorrow Trapped Inside Locked in a well A curse from a child Hatred from Her Father A never born child A spawn on Evil Damnation Child. Hatred from Her Father A never Born child A spawn on Evil Damnation Child. Ring of Sorrow Trapped Inside Locked in a well A curse from a child [Epilogue:] Trapped inside the seven nights I filter the past, no hope for the future Gathered fear breaks my loneliness Erase yourself, again (you) shall break Down at the bottom of your shame. System leads first Numbers called humans Erase themselves There is another shame You play on others game.