Текст песни The Voynich Manuscript (Elvenking) с переводом

I’m slave to the arms of the night and of the shadows

Caressed by the storms and the spines of wanton fantasies

Filthy unutterable rites, of pagan verity

Adorned by magickal scars

For the ones who believe, for the ones who really believe

I raise a toast to the gods of the damned and banned

A chalice to those who betrayed the gilded throne

Write of my journeys and fights back to back

Sing of my deeds and my glories

Hide all the things that are burning my heart

Deep down devouring my soul of black

Until I will confess and redeem

To the last arcane king

A kingdom got fattened by greed, by vicious longings

Luxury demons command

On the prowl of your vanity, look out for your enemies

I raise a toast to the gods of the damned and banned

A chalice to those who betrayed the gilded throne

I stand on the verge of malice — bless the hands of the wickedly pure

The fingers of the glorified to the back of the eternally blamed

Write of my journeys and fights back to back

Sing of my deeds and my glories

Hide all the things that are burning my heart

Deep down devouring my soul of black

Until I will confess and redeem

To the last arcane king

Sing of my deeds and glories — as my remains repose

Evocating maleficium — manuscript of death throes

Write of my journeys and fights back to back

Sing of my deeds and my glories

Hide all the things that are burning my heart

Deep down devouring my soul of black

Write of my journeys and fights back to back

Sing of my deeds and my glories

Hide all the things that are burning my heart

Deep down devouring my soul of black

Until I will confess and redeem (the arcane king)

Yes, redeem to the arcane king

I stand on the verge of malice

Blessed are the hands of the wickedly pure

Pointed the fingers of the glorified

To the backs of the eternally blamed

I stand on the verge of malice

Blessed are the hands of the wickedly pure

Pointed the fingers of the glorified

To the backs of the eternally blamed

I smell the blood of the reverenced

With reluctance and disgust

They’ll find the answers of their holy land

In the piss splattered on their graves

Until I will redeem — to the arcane king

Until I will redeem — to the arcane

To the arcane king

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