Psycroptic
Upon These Stones
Drawn to sacred earth again
One final breath
Wisdom of the few
Upon these stones of power


Lurking mouling minds
Sweet poison falls like rain
The might of the fallen passed down
Seeking solitude against the few

Minds open to the path ahead
Enlightened state mistaken for sickness
So many questions, so little answers
The hymns of nature never heard


Lurking mouling minds
Sweet poison falls like rain
The might of the fallen passed down
Seeking solitude against the few