Fields Of The Nephilim .

Sweeftly through the winds of neon stars; footsteps touch sultry grounds . On the pavements sits the old, all engravements are arranged . Noon is here the Sun is dying, hiding those who live in the alley .

In aquatic lands it's just beginning, the glowing seas smile in content . A peaceful world so it seems, every breath is still and subtle, birds and chickens now so settled . No one notices signs of their existance .

Hunters search for prey in the night, thrown away and sinking in delight . Scared by the brutality they acquire in detention, their gestures so frail and full of tension .

A hail for a haven coming from bats . Blood fueled chaos close and near . An imprecation brought by queers, morbid angels stand on the rear .

Ashen snow is all that remains, the lands so dry and the day so new . The  Sun's curiosity drowns the Moon, it arises to observe the dull recurring day .

Macabre sinners roam at night, silver shadows contain all events . Charcoal  evenings turn to wars, fields of the nephilim are red as hell .