F.O.G Original
Then I will turn your festivals into a funeral, all your songs into wailing,
I will bring sackcloth on everyone’s waist, baldness on every head,
I will make it like mourning for an only son,
And the end of it, will be like a bitter day.
F.O.G
Then I will turn your festivals into a funeral, all your songs into wailing,
I will bring sackcloth on everyone’s waist, baldness on every head,
I will make it like mourning for an only son,
And the end of it, will be like a bitter day.