Midnight Will

Night has come to tuck you in - arm your self within Honour the gleam - of our midnight will All it´s glory - all it´s hell Brace your self What do you seek? I still wander I still wonder The ways of will - an ancient fire The ways of awe - and consecration In the midnight air - the fever burns Bright and simple - like a leech Brace your self Do you believe? I still wander I still wonder The ways of truth - and the ways of lies The ways of knowledge - and dedication A perfect love - in songs of night A perfect dawn - of our midnight will Brace your self What do you see? I still wander I still wonder

Submitted by Pestilence — Feb 22, 2026

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.

Night has come to tuck you in - arm your self within Honour the gleam - of our midnight will All it´s glory - all it´s hell Brace your self What do you seek? I still wander I still wonder The ways of will - an ancient fire The ways of awe - and consecration In the midnight air - the fever burns Bright and simple - like a leech Brace your self Do you believe? I still wander I still wonder The ways of truth - and the ways of lies The ways of knowledge - and dedication A perfect love - in songs of night A perfect dawn - of our midnight will Brace your self What do you see? I still wander I still wonder

Submitted by Pestilence — Feb 22, 2026

As I lie here in this dark Thoughts so black black and numb Lonely dreams entwine my heart Dreams so undefined And a tear for an end An end so final And a tear as night descends In the memory of you And the path has no light Falling flakes and black is the night Empty echoes of empty hours Six six upon six Veil of winter and loneliness My bitter and broken pagan heart As I lie here tonight With the memory of you

Submitted by Pestilence — Feb 22, 2026

Me seemes I see the high and stately mountaines Transform themselves to lowe dejected vallies: Me seemes I heare in these ill changed forrests The nightingales doo learne of owles their musique: Me seemes I feele the comfort of the morning Turnde to the mortall serene of an evening Me seemes I see a filthie clowdie evening As soon as sunne begins to clime the mountaines: Me seemes I feele a noysome sent, the morning When I doo smell the flowers of these vallies: Me seemes i heare, when I doo heare sweet musique The dreadfull cries of murdered men in forrests

Submitted by Pestilence — Feb 22, 2026