The Burning Dawn 歌词

	作词 : Enthroned
	Lying wet, the object I saw
	In this red morning, on a bed made of stones.
	Legs in the air, like a nympho slut,
	Burning and sweating poisons...
	Open, cynic and cut
	Her womb full of exhalations.
	The morning sun reflect
	On this putrid womb.
	As the skies looked down the carcass
	The world gave back a strange choir:
	Chanting Satanas:
	Crawling... in pestilence obscene.
	The Burning Dawn rises in my eyes.
	Forms were erased and nothing but a dream.
	A slow outline to come on the forgotten womb,
	Only by a sight of memory survived
	Yet similar to this refuse.
	Crawling... in a devotion obscene.
	The Burning Dawn rises in my eyes.
	Swallowed... in misery.
	Cursed eternally.
	O horrible infection, foul of my eyes,
	Vermin of nature, passion angels!
	Such you will be, ô worms of life,
	After thy last sacraments, mildewing among the bones.

	zuo ci : Enthroned
	Lying wet, the object I saw
	In this red morning, on a bed made of stones.
	Legs in the air, like a nympho slut,
	Burning and sweating poisons...
	Open, cynic and cut
	Her womb full of exhalations.
	The morning sun reflect
	On this putrid womb.
	As the skies looked down the carcass
	The world gave back a strange choir:
	Chanting Satanas:
	Crawling... in pestilence obscene.
	The Burning Dawn rises in my eyes.
	Forms were erased and nothing but a dream.
	A slow outline to come on the forgotten womb,
	Only by a sight of memory survived
	Yet similar to this refuse.
	Crawling... in a devotion obscene.
	The Burning Dawn rises in my eyes.
	Swallowed... in misery.
	Cursed eternally.
	O horrible infection, foul of my eyes,
	Vermin of nature, passion angels!
	Such you will be, worms of life,
	After thy last sacraments, mildewing among the bones.

	zuò cí : Enthroned
	Lying wet, the object I saw
	In this red morning, on a bed made of stones.
	Legs in the air, like a nympho slut,
	Burning and sweating poisons...
	Open, cynic and cut
	Her womb full of exhalations.
	The morning sun reflect
	On this putrid womb.
	As the skies looked down the carcass
	The world gave back a strange choir:
	Chanting Satanas:
	Crawling... in pestilence obscene.
	The Burning Dawn rises in my eyes.
	Forms were erased and nothing but a dream.
	A slow outline to come on the forgotten womb,
	Only by a sight of memory survived
	Yet similar to this refuse.
	Crawling... in a devotion obscene.
	The Burning Dawn rises in my eyes.
	Swallowed... in misery.
	Cursed eternally.
	O horrible infection, foul of my eyes,
	Vermin of nature, passion angels!
	Such you will be, worms of life,
	After thy last sacraments, mildewing among the bones.

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