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The Wounded Kings
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The Sons Of Belial
Cold eyes, gaze on obsidian skies*
A single tear, the end of the last days
Weep an ocean, flood this cursed land
Our darkest days have come at last
We are the Sons of Belial
Called upon to rise again
We are the Sons of Belial
Dead eyes, stare from eternal sleep
She who weeps, waits in her shadowed womb
Mourn the passing of the child she's lost
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Her darkest days are here at last
I despair of this world
Despise what we've become
Turn to ash under this dying sun
I despair of this world
When will we die
Return to dust, in the years of decline
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