Serpents (Beneath The Forest Of The Dead) 歌词
| 歌曲 | Serpents (Beneath The Forest Of The Dead) |
| 歌手 | Necrophobic |
| 专辑 | Hrimthursum |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Ramstedt | |
| Dead vast forests | |
| Cold ground where death threads | |
| The blood of those who fell | |
| Buried in a tomb of ice | |
| Beneath the forest of the dead | |
| The trees stand black and silent | |
| Immobile in the wind | |
| Reaching out in blasphemy | |
| Like hands cursing the gods | |
| Beneath the forest of the dead | |
| The roots still are growing, like serpents in the ground. | |
| Twisting, turning, slowly without sound | |
| The roots now are spreading, thriving on the dead | |
| Hungry, feeding on the lost misled | |
| So our limbs lie spread | |
| In the shadows of frozen wood | |
| But what is eternally dead | |
| Gives birth to blackened blood | |
| Beneath the forest of the dead |
| zuo ci : Ramstedt | |
| Dead vast forests | |
| Cold ground where death threads | |
| The blood of those who fell | |
| Buried in a tomb of ice | |
| Beneath the forest of the dead | |
| The trees stand black and silent | |
| Immobile in the wind | |
| Reaching out in blasphemy | |
| Like hands cursing the gods | |
| Beneath the forest of the dead | |
| The roots still are growing, like serpents in the ground. | |
| Twisting, turning, slowly without sound | |
| The roots now are spreading, thriving on the dead | |
| Hungry, feeding on the lost misled | |
| So our limbs lie spread | |
| In the shadows of frozen wood | |
| But what is eternally dead | |
| Gives birth to blackened blood | |
| Beneath the forest of the dead |
| zuò cí : Ramstedt | |
| Dead vast forests | |
| Cold ground where death threads | |
| The blood of those who fell | |
| Buried in a tomb of ice | |
| Beneath the forest of the dead | |
| The trees stand black and silent | |
| Immobile in the wind | |
| Reaching out in blasphemy | |
| Like hands cursing the gods | |
| Beneath the forest of the dead | |
| The roots still are growing, like serpents in the ground. | |
| Twisting, turning, slowly without sound | |
| The roots now are spreading, thriving on the dead | |
| Hungry, feeding on the lost misled | |
| So our limbs lie spread | |
| In the shadows of frozen wood | |
| But what is eternally dead | |
| Gives birth to blackened blood | |
| Beneath the forest of the dead |
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