F.O.G Original
The roads of Tziyon mourn,
Since no one is coming to the appointed festival,
All her gates are desolate and her priests groaning,
Her virgins are grieving, and she herself is bitter.
F.O.G
The roads of Tziyon mourn,
Since no one is coming to the appointed festival,
All her gates are desolate and her priests groaning,
Her virgins are grieving, and she herself is bitter.