Dies Holocaustum - Terms of the Coven

In the night of banished souls we rise for centuries longed this sacrifice
Fresh blood brings us back to life, see the gleam in the darkness, feel the knife

Ancient curse, sworn beyond the wicker flames summon the ghost
Procession moves across the fog, the wind brings us a canticle
It's the cold whisper of the dead, disincarnate coven parade

A grim fascination snared in black contrition
Darkness retribution, join the fog's procession

Paths left behind forgotten curse
Doomed souls' toll in your dreams you'll walk along
Trance nocturnal seance to die, phantasms march in ritual line

In the night of witches they will rise from their ancient graves to chase the light
Even though we hide they will entice those who by the coven abide
A funeral wake nocturnal march in the middle of the blackest night
Will you then believe your frozen eyes when they call your name to claim

Written by:
Jónathan Alcover Martín

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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