| Thirteen are the ones residing in this eerie shrine
|
| Every founder, each a liar, gathered by design
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| Their shadows move without a sound, faces dire
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| Apotheosis, to transform from man to god
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| Calling spirits of moonlight, bringing the cold draconian tide
|
| The circle stands in the ivory tower
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| They’re chanting inside the shrine
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| Heaven is a dream invented, never realized
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| Making masses fear hellfire and the end of time
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| They hide the truth within plain sight, codes and ciphers
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| Novus Ordo Seclorum, the eye sees all
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| Calling spirits of moonlight, bringing the cold draconian tide
|
| The circle stands in the ivory tower
|
| They’re chanting inside the shrine
|
| Something comes as the air’s vibrating and candles die with a sigh
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| Now behold, as the light is fading, for the invoked has arrived
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| For eternities the web was weaved
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| Bloodlines of certain stature to pull the strings
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| Bloodlines, all in all thirteen
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| Chosen by blood for the seal of the all-seeing eye
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| A transformation occurred within
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| Inside, beneath their skin
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| An eerie vision, a fearful scene
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| And now it’s time to leave
|
| Thirteen are the ones residing in this eerie shrine
|
| Every founder, each a liar, gathered by design
|
| Their shadows move without a sound, faces dire
|
| Apotheosis, to transform from man to god
|
| Calling spirits of moonlight, bringing the cold draconian tide
|
| The circle stands in the ivory tower
|
| They’re chanting inside the shrine
|
| Something comes as the air’s vibrating and candles die with a sigh
|
| Now behold, as the light is fading, for the invoked has arrived
|
| In ivory towers
|
| Inside the shrine
|
| Under the sacred sign
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| In ivory towers
|
| Inside the shrine
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| Under the seal of the all-seeing eye |