Текст песни I am the Son of Daggers, in a Future you forgot - Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio
                                                The 
                                                greatest 
                                                of 
                                                wars 
                                                is 
                                                about 
                                                to 
                                                commence
 
                                    
                                
                                                It 
                                                starts 
                                                to 
                                                befall 
                                                where 
                                                other 
                                                wars 
                                                end
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                death 
                                                of 
                                                your 
                                                father 
                                                was 
                                                    a 
                                                way 
                                                to 
                                                wage 
                                                war
 
                                    
                                
                                                So 
                                                was 
                                                your 
                                                dagger 
                                                and 
                                                the 
                                                black 
                                                shirt 
                                                you 
                                                wore
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                stars 
                                                are 
                                                gone, 
                                                the 
                                                symbols 
                                                burn, 
                                                compassion 
                                                is 
                                                in 
                                                vain
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                lose 
                                                ourselves, 
                                                to 
                                                find 
                                                ourselves, 
                                                to 
                                                lose 
                                                ourselves 
                                                again
 
                                    
                                
                                                They 
                                                march 
                                                to 
                                                the 
                                                future 
                                                in 
                                                rivers 
                                                of 
                                                blood
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                are 
                                                raised 
                                                to 
                                                believe 
                                                in 
                                                the 
                                                absence 
                                                of 
                                                gods
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                death 
                                                of 
                                                my 
                                                father 
                                                was 
                                                his 
                                                way 
                                                to 
                                                declare
 
                                    
                                
                                                That 
                                                the 
                                                future 
                                                is 
                                                tarnished 
                                                like 
                                                the 
                                                black 
                                                shirt 
                                                    I 
                                                wear
 
                                    
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