Isenburg Songtext
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We prospect the deepest seam,
crawling in the blackest holes.
Obsessed by the treasures
of our holy ground.
Our fruits are made of stone,
We extract from innermost.
Our mountains bleed for us
and so we defend this pact with our blood.
Walls of boundary from otherness
crawling in the blackest holes.
Obsessed by the treasures
of our holy ground.
Our fruits are made of stone,
We extract from innermost.
Our mountains bleed for us
and so we defend this pact with our blood.
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