Age of Mothers - Moonspell

Ours the rotten heart

Passing our mask of death on to our sons

We have become so deeply sad

Consigned to pain

Serpent among sisters

In the wake of invaded

I summon your rains to extinguish the fire

Burning inside men

In this age of mathers

In all the sleeps

Grief among brothers

Bled upon the streams

Fingernails closing upon the world of ancient

Bearing a new one

Pain when the time is of birth

Courage when it’s time to inspire us

Our land is a woman whose perfect figure

We are not worth to touch

In this age of mothers

In all that sleeps