Cells scattered in electronic ghosts of pulse
Dreams of futile flesh…
(Chorus:
Hindsight’s remembrance of members and bowels
Heroes of hopes broken, throw in the towel…)
Wisdom and crafts of the pioneers – never lose them in these cold years
(Repeat chorus)
Broken, dreamless in frozen worship
Into the necrosphere, beyond the world of waking men
Where horror and moral terror are your friends

SOUMETTRE LES CORRECTIONS