Return to Carthage - Septic Flesh



Hedonism, power in life without end

Morality and remorse banished

An epitaph of useless beliefs and countless mistakes

Left to the outcasts

Those who were found guilty for self-torment

Never admitting so. betrayed by their shiver

While mutilating their happiness

With razor blades of guilt

Their voices rise like an irritating whisper

To the AENAON fortress

But there is no need for warriors

That can not win thier own battles

Razor blades of guilt

No beggars are allowed in. to feast in sympathy

This treasure is kept and shared

With the beloved loyal comrades

Wearing the title of the trinity

Warlord, magician and king

Hands are raised grasping golden cups

In a toast for hedonism

Power in life without guilt



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