Now my time has come and I’m the LORD. Sword and axe cleared my path to the throne, From which I’m lokking now at the rest, Realms of my
Songs of the AION
Said burn your Docs Throw out your Cosom, Your Details, Your Vogue She hate fashion hypocrites And the puppets that spew forth She hates people who hate, but she
Grief only and teardrops on face remained In a cold cell black angel rests – the mother Does not cry, cold as ice, which iced up Tiny limbs of
Look through the people, and on through the mist To the hill of the headless cross Where all witches meet, on a night such as this, And the power
On it’s blazing chariots. The scarlet rain lashes around, The flames bathe on the wind. My body trembles, but my mind bravely beats back the attacks of the invader.
Flowing among the stones. The river is black. When you bend your head In a glimpse you can see a sad face It’s fading and then your face appears
Like convicts who went this way before Sometimes I see… Along the way marked with furrows, I go Like convicts who went this way before Sometimes I see their