Witches infesting the ruins of the church
Patiently ringing the once holy bell
The never ending drone of this accursed death knell
Echoes through hectares of forest, signalling the end
Beckon their master's return
His return
Blackened the water he serves to his guests
Blackened the guests that he serves to his well
Helpless and bound to this thirst he must quell
His eyes descend to count the souls required for the spell
Libations for Master's return
His return
Old and faded sigils of some long forgotten spell
Quietly adorn the watery walls of the ancient well
Wraiths contort and crawl the endless darkness of these depths
When a pair of eyes appear amongst them luminous and red
The master is here, he's returned
The metal’s band revelatory new record crosses genres and styles, effortlessly combining seemingly incompatible subgenres. Bandcamp Album of the Day Apr 26, 2024