歌曲 | Blackwater Park |
歌手 | Opeth |
专辑 | The Roundhouse Tapes |
作词 : Opeth | |
ConfessorOf the tragedies in man | |
Lurking in the core of us all | |
The last dying call for the ever lost | |
Brief encounters, bleeding pain | |
Lepers coiled beneath the trees | |
Dying men in bewildered soliloquy's | |
Perversions bloom round the bend | |
Seekers, lost in their quest | |
Ghosts of friends frolic | |
Under the waning moon | |
It is the year of death | |
Wielding his instruments | |
Stealth sovereign reaper | |
Touching us with ease | |
Infecting the roots in an instant | |
Burning crop of disease | |
I am just a spectator | |
An advocate documenting the loss | |
Fluttering with conceit | |
This doesn't concern me yet | |
Still far from the knell | |
Taunting their bereavement | |
Mob round the dead | |
Point fingers at the details | |
Probing vomits for more | |
Caught in unbridled suspense | |
We have all lost it now | |
Catching the flakes of dismay | |
Born the travesty of man | |
Regular pulse midst pandemonium | |
You're plucked to the mass | |
Parched with thirst for the wicked | |
Sick liaisons raised this monumental mark | |
The sun sets forever over | |
Black Water | |
Park |
zuò cí : Opeth | |
ConfessorOf the tragedies in man | |
Lurking in the core of us all | |
The last dying call for the ever lost | |
Brief encounters, bleeding pain | |
Lepers coiled beneath the trees | |
Dying men in bewildered soliloquy' s | |
Perversions bloom round the bend | |
Seekers, lost in their quest | |
Ghosts of friends frolic | |
Under the waning moon | |
It is the year of death | |
Wielding his instruments | |
Stealth sovereign reaper | |
Touching us with ease | |
Infecting the roots in an instant | |
Burning crop of disease | |
I am just a spectator | |
An advocate documenting the loss | |
Fluttering with conceit | |
This doesn' t concern me yet | |
Still far from the knell | |
Taunting their bereavement | |
Mob round the dead | |
Point fingers at the details | |
Probing vomits for more | |
Caught in unbridled suspense | |
We have all lost it now | |
Catching the flakes of dismay | |
Born the travesty of man | |
Regular pulse midst pandemonium | |
You' re plucked to the mass | |
Parched with thirst for the wicked | |
Sick liaisons raised this monumental mark | |
The sun sets forever over | |
Black Water | |
Park |