I am done
The world we are living in is just a poem of dead souls
I will destroy, ridicule, exceedingly desecrate
Taboos are the gateway towards a new aeon
Left hand path symphony
Occult science and blasphemy
You can turn yourself into gold
Let it go, learn to bestow yourself into flow
When you are excrement
You can turn yourself into gold
Dig, dig, dig, dig deeper
For treasures are always hidden there
Where the old guard never want you to go
Raging without violence, thunder without storm
This is the form of the true will
I believe in restitution as the form of absolution
I believe in liberty, spawn of spiritual anarchy
I believe in clownery, desecration and blasphemy
For truth is above all kind of mockery
And real gods don't care about profanity
And "they" don't need a temple to be worshipped
As they reveal themselves only in the dark night of the soul
This is an ode, an ode for the dying world
There is no hope, no hope for turning back
I will watch old world burn from the top of the highest mountain
Creation through destruction is my left hand path symphony
And real gods don't care about profanity
And "they" don't need a temple to be worshipped
As they reveal themselves only in the dark night of the soul
This is an ode, an ode for the dying world
There is no hope, no hope for turning back
I will watch old world burn from the top of the highest mountain
Creation through destruction is my left hand path symphony