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Cult Of Luna - Текст песни The Great Migration
Heed the capercaillies call.
A premonition of an oncoming war.
Leave behind all that you hold inside.
The howls gets stronger, they are coming.
Wicked is the atmosphere.
Ungodly is the swell.Cult Of Luna - The Great Migration - http://ru.motolyrics.com/cult-of-luna/the-great-migration-lyrics.html
Our bodies explode in true emotions.
Let the beacon fires burn.
The night is ours.
A maternal light illuminates these last moments.
Far above the truth, we find and we all return to hell.
