Testo di Raising From The Abyss

Darned flies disturbing his way Seeking for the (yet called) freedom! As he climb a (nother) pile of corpses To consecrate... Consecrate the self-titled grief Somewhat stilled by reality Oh, Nausea, the illness itself As dismay took place Raising, desecrating He, the perverted one His way, clean... ... yet to be tamed! Aye! Man of thousand faces! Another aeon, and your will Shall be strong enough To face this inner void And survive the downfall Darned flies puncturing his wounds Those (empty) faces shall disappear! As he'll make his way through death To celebrate!