歌曲 | Progression Of Suffering |
歌手 | Relics Of Humanity |
专辑 | Ominously Reigning Upon The Intangible |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
Forgetful he is like a newborn | |
Among the soulless wasteland | |
Illuminated by crimson glow | |
The cursed land amid the spikes of mountains | |
That lures with tears of thousands, | |
That tempts with billion moans! | |
And driven by the only miserable wish | |
The mindless fool runs to it | |
His thirst desiring to slake | |
The gates appear in his sight invitingly open! | |
That place awaits! | |
As groan that sounds like melting soul | |
Has reached his ear | |
The terror turned him back | |
But the wind that once was fair | |
Tore off his skin and cut his eyes with sand | |
There he knew that there was no return | |
So he entered the gates and trod on the ground | |
There was no soil under his feet but human flesh | |
There were no trees but piles of dead | |
Where souls are perennially wither | |
And shadows are devouring their guts | |
The vagrant burst out running | |
And fear led him to the bank | |
He yelled “this is salvation!” | |
He fell to knees and drank | |
But fiery the river were | |
He sprayed his throat with flames | |
The thirst that was can’t be compared | |
To that which him awaits |
Forgetful he is like a newborn | |
Among the soulless wasteland | |
Illuminated by crimson glow | |
The cursed land amid the spikes of mountains | |
That lures with tears of thousands, | |
That tempts with billion moans! | |
And driven by the only miserable wish | |
The mindless fool runs to it | |
His thirst desiring to slake | |
The gates appear in his sight invitingly open! | |
That place awaits! | |
As groan that sounds like melting soul | |
Has reached his ear | |
The terror turned him back | |
But the wind that once was fair | |
Tore off his skin and cut his eyes with sand | |
There he knew that there was no return | |
So he entered the gates and trod on the ground | |
There was no soil under his feet but human flesh | |
There were no trees but piles of dead | |
Where souls are perennially wither | |
And shadows are devouring their guts | |
The vagrant burst out running | |
And fear led him to the bank | |
He yelled " this is salvation!" | |
He fell to knees and drank | |
But fiery the river were | |
He sprayed his throat with flames | |
The thirst that was can' t be compared | |
To that which him awaits |
Forgetful he is like a newborn | |
Among the soulless wasteland | |
Illuminated by crimson glow | |
The cursed land amid the spikes of mountains | |
That lures with tears of thousands, | |
That tempts with billion moans! | |
And driven by the only miserable wish | |
The mindless fool runs to it | |
His thirst desiring to slake | |
The gates appear in his sight invitingly open! | |
That place awaits! | |
As groan that sounds like melting soul | |
Has reached his ear | |
The terror turned him back | |
But the wind that once was fair | |
Tore off his skin and cut his eyes with sand | |
There he knew that there was no return | |
So he entered the gates and trod on the ground | |
There was no soil under his feet but human flesh | |
There were no trees but piles of dead | |
Where souls are perennially wither | |
And shadows are devouring their guts | |
The vagrant burst out running | |
And fear led him to the bank | |
He yelled " this is salvation!" | |
He fell to knees and drank | |
But fiery the river were | |
He sprayed his throat with flames | |
The thirst that was can' t be compared | |
To that which him awaits |