Cult Of Luna - Following Betulas
Awaken in the silent night. Alone, inland hysteria.
I am a stranger in this land. Here I kneel before you.
Oh, solemn glory.
Standing together on the hill. Nothing spoken, but yet understood.
Below, a procession of wooden men. Swinging their tree trunks in the wind.
Standing together on the hill. Nothing spoken, but yet understood.
The white birches are alive, they are marching.
Letras Cult Of Luna