Woe to the Defeated Songtext
von Hollenthon

Silence robs the morbid statuette
A contigent laughter, reaper′s face triumphant
Foes pointing fingers, all accusing
Trading gods of ancient into a night of stones

Which may solace, vaevictis
Can you spare immortal tears?
Which may solace, vaevictis
Its murmur echoed far and near

Ember white from fire-breathing
Its orphaned children drink from empty wells of fate
In an hole there awaits the ember
Eclipta forful spreads its golden wings


Which may solace, vaevictis
Can you spare immortal tears?
Which may solace, vaevictis
Its murmur echoed far and near

Which may solace, vaevictis
Can you spare immortal tears?
Which may solace, vaevictis
Its murmur echoed far and near

Can you spare immortal tears?
Its murmur echoed far and near
Can you spare immortal tears?
Its murmur echoed far and near
Can you spare immortal tears?
Its murmur echoed far and near
Can you spare immortal tears?
Its murmur echoed far and near