Songtext von For Whom We Mourn

In the black of the night The moon shrouded in mourning veils Comes the low and guttural keening Death becomes this prophet of sorrow As she seeks those facing tragedy Huntress of loss, wail your warning Her face is a porcelain mask A nightmare of flesh and bone The sound of her grief wills your heart with dread No air will escape your throat As you choke upon your fear The banshee inches ever closer Because tonight she cries for you