Since when, sons of Truth, are you brothers of the Night?What has made your hands blood red?The outbreak in the night is the flower of pain [?],nothing can be excused by that.The altar of lies will not be broken, the altarthat multiplies the form forever.Immaculate portrait, bringer of light [?] without pain,only protection for horrible nightsWe are children of the ghost [spirit] and brothers of the Night,that does not keep its promises. [?]We are black spirits of this world,we extol the mad shape of sorrowThe explanation is the whip, and you drip of blood:Break the mirror of the world for the hundredth time,your hardship is in vain; we have defeated the Night.Our debt is paidand ours is the light)Apologija LaibachLo último que escribió Tomaz Hostnik antes de colgarse. (antes de que lo colgaran)El primer marciano nacionalsocialista en colonizar la tierra.
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