The Pythia's Pale Wolves
de The Ruins Of Beverast
Our proud arkadia celebrates tonight
All circles ablaze with torchlight
Our masked, splendorous patron
Shall stare into the lidless eyes of our cattle
Betimes
Zeus burn my mind!
Sing, priestess, sing!
Your eyes, your chant, your ecstasy!
Pythia, sing to me!
Zeus punish me!
Dance, priestess, dance!
Your herbs, your breath, all agony!
O pythia, pour it all over me
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