I'm So Tired Of Sighing: Please Lord, Let It Be Night Songtext
von Black Tongue

We are gathered here today to give rise to abomination.
He will cast the chains of subjugation.
Spread his oppression across all nations; unending ire; the tables shifted.
Under his cleansing fire the filth is lifted.

The sea will burn crimson under his reign.
She was always at her best dressed in flames.
Witness eternal disdain:

The tree is withered.
The roots are rotten and weak.
They grow through the skulls and the ribs of the children murdered at its feet.
The lie you′ve been chasing; the happiness you seek; you could have found what you sought blooming in man, but the rot was too deep.
An axe to the tree.


Prepare the sacrifice.
Drag her screaming to the altar.
Bring me the sacred knife.
Lay her on the table.
Carve on her chest the shape of the elder sign.
The hour draws near.
Raise your glass and share her blood as holy wine.
The hour draws near...

The tree is withered.
The roots are rotten and weak.
They grow through the skulls and the ribs of the children murdered at its feet.

I vocare te diaboli - Ustulo omnia - Nova nobis - Satana
(Hark, the calling of crows)

"The sea will burn crimson under my reign. I will see this world wreathed in flames. Witness pain"