Dead Souls (Frédéric Duquesne Mix)

The illusions of forsaken, the bringer of the disease. All for lust and not for fears, sacrificing the remaining mistakes. It seems our final reason, before the cleansing. End of the line! We're falling into the depths. Sorrows forever burned, penance for souls hasn't been paid. The final fire, your heart is bleeding. I seal your fate, hidden opulence. It seems our final reason, before the cleansing. End of the line! Dead! The tunnel awaits, falling through the vortex. Gasping for air, I'm dying from suffocation. Be strong and face the end, before you're ripped to pieces. Feel the fire as your skin starts to burn! The fear before your eyes, the blackest blood of dead. Souls from the sacrifice, devoured by the cleansing fire. Infamously wrong, we've seen the hologram. Banish the hypocrites, ancient bloodlines run deep. Mixing up demonic sperm, creating the master-race. Behold the rise of our dead souls. The fear before your eyes, the blackest blood of dead. Souls from the sacrifice, devoured by the cleansing fire.

Submitted by Cyberwaste — Nov 14, 2025