Testo The Voice

Shadows gleam
Upon the hill at night
The willow whispers
Heightens the mind
That goes astray in a moor of clouds

Horror lingers
Where contorted bodies were found Wateful nights
Sinking into the dream
Listening
To the voice that steadily resounds

(Repeat x2)
It is the voice from the womb
The child that wishes it was it's tomb