Primitive Rage - Season of the Witch
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Born in disgust
One final lie
Disease of the mind
Buried inside
Run from your fears
Nowhere to hide
Sacrifice yourself upon the iris shrine
Season of the witch
Towards death you flee
You turn from the warmth
Others approval
No need to contend
A whispering sound
Driving you down
To the silent death
Following the
Season of the witch
One final lie
Disease of the mind
Buried inside
Run from your fears
Nowhere to hide
Sacrifice yourself upon the iris shrine
Season of the witch
Towards death you flee
You turn from the warmth
Others approval
No need to contend
A whispering sound
Driving you down
To the silent death
Following the
Season of the witch