me The dead moon rising again over The mountains I pray for relief Out of the darkness I hear The cries of victory The dead moon rising again God hates
of stone... GARGOYLES, FLY GARGOYLES, RISE GARGOYLES, FLY HIGH...! ANGELI DI PIETRA MISTICA LADRI D'ANIME FIERI VOLANO Gargoyles, oh my brother gargoyles Rise now, rise
one!) of us (of us!) and act as all the prophecies want... To mountains and valleys, to fire and snow, to sun, moon and wisdom rise your soul... it's
