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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Dimmu Borgir
Performer
Silenoz
Guitar
Annika Hjelm
Violin
Catherine Claesson
Violin
Galder
Lead Guitar
Gaute Storaas
Conductor
Grzegorz Wybraniec
Cello
Henrik Edström
Viola
Mustis
Synthesiser
Nicholas Barker
Drums
Nicola Boruvka
Violin
Nils Edin
Viola
Per Hogberg
Viola
Shagrath
Lead Vocals
Thord Svedlund
Violin
Vortex
Bass Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tom Rune Anderssen
Composer
Sven Atle Kopperud
Composer
Stian Thoresen
Composer
Dimmu Borgir
Arranger
Gaute Storaas
Orchestrator
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Dimmu Borgir
Producer
Fredrik Nordström
Producer
Lyrics
The apparition of two faces in disgust
Invisible but yet so clear
Reflections seen by a fugitive
Trying to escape the looking glass
Blood runs from open wounds of false flesh
The one in front of the mirror exceeds the image
Eager to leave further but chained still
To crumble into such nothingness
A despairing fate, for your lies
To pretend is the lunatics legacy
Privileged to bolt the nails of heresy
Born lifeless into a world of coma
As the chronic sufferer trapped in paradise lost
Missing insinuations of what life was meant to be
Angels and demons, a march man's bewildering hosts
The charlatans and deceivers walk the line in prejudice
The narrow slits the veins in search for the crown
Profound impatience makes the blind struggle in stupidity
The paradox of the daily prayer, diffidence is Confiteor
Phenomena of ironies, cast the litany aside
How intelligible, blessed be the forgetful
Angels and demons, a march man's bewildering hosts
Holding the banner high, unrestrained
Slowly abandoning the surface in contempt
Still in costumes to please the ways of living
Witnessing the details of defilement, intoxicating
Make sure to be pleased with the ways of your death
For in days of reckoning and when the twilight torn is ticking
Elysium is halfway and as an answer to the plea
You're destined to yield fragments of Hell in return
The charlatans and deceivers walk the line in prejudice
The narrow slits the veins in search for the crown
Profound impatience makes the blind struggle in stupidity
The paradox of the daily prayer, diffidence is Confiteor
Angels and demons, a march man's bewildering hosts
Leave unnoticed with the perfect conscience
With the strength of the spiritual eye
Spirits of the token unchained and free
Recover from the philanthropic macabre frenzy
The pale dove grins, black at heart ready to flee
Demon to some, angel to others
Writer(s): Stian Tomt Thoresen, Sven Atle Kopperud, Tom Rune Andersen
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