Tales Of Darknord - Preternatural Pleasure

The pretext of a greatest biggest plan
Under pretence of confusion at the small
World of dirty like preview lives a creatures
Proclivity to the fancy of own rotting selves
The saint on the crucifixion. Under pretence of
future from the Gold own belly they cherish only.
We're not pugnacious and we hasn't privation
Crucifix for the thrix. Burn!
Captors of appeal of God suffering of supplement
Fund. Victims screams in the dampness of grave.
Simple scraps of the food of the deads.
We deigned soft paid one's way. A vision of a
Happy days. Escape from they is giving a
Mechanic pain. Remain of brains so many years lie
Upside down. Not head! Not heart!
The new mind has another name.
Satirical infernal lords decay.
Naturally end nowise remain.
It seems the death squirming in my heart
Watching deads but may not take. One knows oneself better than a way
And death arrived you must to run away.
It seems the men of over the world penetrated
By ideas of beast's repletion hate.
Sick nazy force. Blind cleaning nordic mission
Turn into war like claim for New Creation.
But crazy force sweep of all inclinations.
You started war, began a...
Mixture from death and others natures weapons.
A more prosperity and you begin make shindy.
For empty theory a thousands of victims died
In your war received a stupid mission.
Embraced by death. Unscreaming faces. Try touch
To me with hate in agony. White skull. Enslaved.
The damned fate! They present me falling future.
War! But stop. We must find fault this act.
We know they lossed. We're waiting you on Judge.
Absurd bacillus congested the world declaring
Gods. Their torsos decomposed.