Out sized praise saved for the same circling skies
Like a skin grafted whole over nothing but cold
Fly, nothing will hold your mind
The same pile will wait for your return
Find new heights with fire from inside
Pressing closely to safety is no life to live by
So shallow, self-served, lightning stolen from gods
Polished by servants enslaved
To their superior’s minds
If I can’t find a single purpose from your foolish spells
I bar the gates of sanctuary for souls who steal
I’ve got nothing but hatred and hands around your throat
I’ve got not but silvered images for the brave who fail
Bound in stone the venerated dwell
In sacred scenes from saintly Hell
This album sounds like it was recorded inside of a dream. Soothing melodies, distant vocals and amazing beats - Endlhëtonëg is simply something else botwin336
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