Opeth

The Devil's Orchard

This trail is obsidian, the grip of winter uncoiled
A lover would follow me
Cast down and sworn to the dark

Take the road where devils speak
God is dead, God is dead

The wealth of darkness
Inside you, telling you "now"
Senses corrupted
Controlling a poisonous will

Take the road where devils speak
God is dead, God is dead

In the corner of my eye
Tearing flesh from bone

Led the blind in search to find
A pathway to the sun
Saw the signs intertwined
And forgave me all my sins

Why?

No stigmas revealing our vices
And there are no stigmas revealing our vices

God is dead, God is dead

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