Wine In My Hand

Celtic Frost

They're sleeping through the ages

Faces bare of names

Remembrance ever lies

At the Bosom of the insane

Death's cold embrace

Across the restless seas

Unfolding the wish to forget

The eyes of the deceased

Thirst for the wine in my hand

Third from the sun

The heart of death

A thought for fake desires

Starving trough the night

Engulfed in an earthbound fire

Left all alone among the dances and cries

They seed all the hate

Within the shade of sights