Black Sun Empire - 1800 Contact | Текст песни

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• Black Sun Empire
• 1800 Contact

Death, be not proud, though some have callèd thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;

And soonest our best men with thee do go,

Rest of their bones and soul's delivery.

For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

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