Print

Fifty million miles below my feet There's a lot of people I'd like to meet There's thieves and killers Harlots and whores All were misguided But not any more... So I see their fate In the black of the doom Waves of fire in the storm Creatures howl at the moon They're screaming intensely Their cries are heard for miles A prince resides there Lake of fools, burning wild From Letras Mania