Текст песни Message From the Past - Golem
                                                In 
                                                dark 
                                                years 
                                                of 
                                                pain
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                borne 
                                                the 
                                                life
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                perfected 
                                                dying
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                can′t 
                                                more 
                                                survive
 
                                    
                                
                                                At 
                                                first 
                                                was 
                                                the 
                                                fire, 
                                                the 
                                                beginning 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                end
 
                                    
                                
                                                Then 
                                                was 
                                                the 
                                                man, 
                                                the 
                                                dying 
                                                began
 
                                    
                                
                                                He 
                                                took 
                                                    a 
                                                torch 
                                                into 
                                                the 
                                                hand
 
                                    
                                
                                                Blind 
                                                with 
                                                rage, 
                                                sick 
                                                with 
                                                hate
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                remains 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                past 
                                                decay 
                                                to 
                                                dust
 
                                    
                                
                                                Winds 
                                                blow 
                                                away 
                                                the 
                                                message 
                                                from 
                                                the 
                                                past
 
                                    
                                
                                                In 
                                                dark 
                                                years 
                                                of 
                                                pain
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                borne 
                                                the 
                                                life
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                perfected 
                                                dying
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                can't 
                                                more 
                                                survive
 
                                    
                                
                                                Storms 
                                                of 
                                                torches 
                                                weakened 
                                                the 
                                                land
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                ruins 
                                                of 
                                                fire 
                                                still 
                                                are 
                                                present
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                peaceful 
                                                man, 
                                                    a 
                                                deceitful 
                                                shine
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                fire 
                                                is 
                                                present, 
                                                the 
                                                torch 
                                                still 
                                                in 
                                                the 
                                                hand
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                remains 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                past 
                                                decay 
                                                to 
                                                dust
 
                                    
                                
                                                Winds 
                                                blow 
                                                away 
                                                the 
                                                message 
                                                from 
                                                the 
                                                past
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                will 
                                                forget 
                                                the 
                                                dead 
                                                of 
                                                wars
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                are 
                                                naive 
                                                enough 
                                                that 
                                                to 
                                                ignore
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                peaceful 
                                                time, 
                                                    a 
                                                blooming 
                                                land
 
                                    
                                
                                                    I 
                                                prophesy 
                                                the 
                                                coming 
                                                end
 
                                    
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