The Old Wind - In Fields | Текст песни

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• The Old Wind
• In Fields

As them sinners walk.
Through the storm of possessed.
Drained black hearts.
The filth they drag.
They lost upon.
Through the ashes,
will never walk back home.

The plague within.
The cross to bare.
The masses of disgust.

In the hour of dying,
all hope is lost.
Vanishing,
will never walk back home.

Their souls are lost.
In fields of dispair.
They brought this upon.
Bow for the worms.
Their leaders in sick.
Bleeding eye, in absence.

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