Southern Whiskey Rebellion
prophet of green mountain
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An ancient time gone by shrouded in smoke a prophet he stood on high with sandal and cloak
A ritual veiled in lies open your heart to my bloodshot eyes
Two thousand years have passed shrouded in sin beaten and battle torn with leathered skin
Stand on your mountain and call unto me, grant me the wisdom for I hear and see
For I seek your knowledge and I seek your power
Grant this to me so that life I may devour
- Album:
- Acquisition of Perception