Text písně Premonitions Of War: The True Face Of Panic

The True Face Of Panic


What is this new madness? On it comes
Panic, whose blood runs cold
Fear not this raging madman, evil incarnate
First on one side then the other
I hate him worst of all
As if I stand on some tall beacon, I see it draw near
On it comes
Abhorrence, whose blood boils in the vein
You hate me worst of all







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