To conjure up the blackest of nights
Xasthur
No more a victim of a crusade
Where souls are strung from a moral palisade
I slit my wrists and quickly slip away...
I journey now on jewelled sands
Beneath a moon to Summerlands
To grace Her lips with contraband
The blaze once in my veins...
Where souls are strung from a moral palisade
I slit my wrists and quickly slip away...
I journey now on jewelled sands
Beneath a moon to Summerlands
To grace Her lips with contraband
The blaze once in my veins...
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Mais ouvidas de Xasthur
ver todas as músicas- Disharmonic Convergence
- Dreams Blacker Than Death
- Blood From the Roots of the Forest
- Oration of Ruin...
- Forgotten Depths of Nowhere
- Consumed By a Dark Paranoia
- A Tortured Shallow Grave
- Obfuscated in Oblivion
- Achieve Emptiness: Part II
- Funerals Drenched in Apathy
- Unblessed Be
- Unfailing Fall into Naught
- As Fire Scourged the Heavens
- Beauty is Only Razor Deep
- Bleak Necrotic Paleness
- Trauma Will Always Linger
- Black Imperial Blood
- Nocturnal Poisoning
- Telepathic With The Deceased
- Apparitional Void of Failure