Chorus -
Chorus
Let the Priests of the Raven of dawn, no longer in deadly black. with hoarse
note curse the sons of joy. Nor his accepted brethren whom, tyrant, he calls
free: lay the bound or build the roof. Nor pale religious letchery call that
virginity, that wishes but acts not!
For every thing that lives is Holy
Let the Priests of the Raven of dawn, no longer in deadly black. with hoarse
note curse the sons of joy. Nor his accepted brethren whom, tyrant, he calls
free: lay the bound or build the roof. Nor pale religious letchery call that
virginity, that wishes but acts not!
For every thing that lives is Holy
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