This Morn' Omina - Trimurti/Trefoil | Текст песни

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• This Morn' Omina
• Trimurti/Trefoil

People are of no value - we can make more some time
If we need them .
Lifeitself is only a vision - a dream
Nothing exists save empty space
And you are but a thought.
You may make some people.
For our sakes who adore thee lord
Blast their hopes
Blight their lives
Protract their bitter pilgrimage
Make heavy their steps
Water they way with their tears
Stain the white snow with the blood their wounded feet
For our sakes who adore thee lord.
I fiend you humans quite interesting
Even if you are worthless greedy lot
How annoying that sound is
Fools
What's the matter.
Hello
Who are you, an Angel?
What's your name, Satan?
We ask who are sore beset
And seek his aid with humbled and contrite hearts


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