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Altar Of Plagues - Текст песни Earth As A Furnace
A once sacred womb, now more akin to a furnace.
And we watch her bleed, watch the wounds run dry.
Bury my hands in the soil
Fingers withered and grey
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Pulling patterns in the dirt
Tear the bark from the trees and build a chariot
And watch the earth return to grain,
As it once was.