The Wounded Kings - Invocation of the Ancients | Текст песни

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• The Wounded Kings
• Invocation of the Ancients

The prophets gaze on Akkadian skies*
Cities crumble, all will die...

Last of the ancients beneath the tide
Unknown grave from ruins arise

Awaken from sleep, reclaim what has gone
Black cloak burns on a blazing throne

Prophets gaze to the burning skies...
Rise from the ashes, where Atlantis lies


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