The Plague - IXION

See these ruins

We have buried our existence underground

In this wasteland, we sealed our grave

The devil itself breathes out

A sterile vapour firmament

Contagion to innocent world

Heaven’s face does glow against the doom

It should never have been created

Desperate times, desperate measures

They say this is fantasy, it’s very ecstasy

Won’t belief take them all,

Touching this dreaded sight?

We’ll leave you behind, we need to escape

A new hope for mankind

We think there is no cure

Break my soul

I must hold my tongue and my heart

In this hypocrites

Such bitter business I would like to die

With tristful visage I’m thought-sick at the act

Don’t come with me, I let you go

Your head over my shoulder, I’m sorry