Song | Under Black Age Toil |
Artist | Human Fortress |
Album | Lord of Earth and Heavens Heir |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Parcharidis, Wolf | |
Under black age toil we live | |
That night the stars shot madly from | |
Their spheres and we're raging like a violent storm | |
And the moon that was no crescent but | |
His horns were visible within the circumference | |
One saw more devils vastest hell can hold | |
Within moonshine we left to bury the dead | |
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve | |
The pestilence has taken our eyesight | |
And our graves are gaping wide | |
Everyone sets forth his dying sprite | |
And the church way paths to glide | |
Through dead bodies - nor rich or poor | |
Anymore with stolen pride | |
Under black age toil we live | |
Oh scornful masters we leave our homes | |
Under black age toil our sweat runs bold | |
Let the pestilence resolve our end | |
We won't leave our fathers land | |
We won't learn trial patience for a customary cross | |
We've abandonded to relieve and heal | |
Even strong men with their hearts of steel | |
And the beggars, fools our knights and kings | |
Met the demon with this blackened wings |
zuo qu : Parcharidis, Wolf | |
Under black age toil we live | |
That night the stars shot madly from | |
Their spheres and we' re raging like a violent storm | |
And the moon that was no crescent but | |
His horns were visible within the circumference | |
One saw more devils vastest hell can hold | |
Within moonshine we left to bury the dead | |
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve | |
The pestilence has taken our eyesight | |
And our graves are gaping wide | |
Everyone sets forth his dying sprite | |
And the church way paths to glide | |
Through dead bodies nor rich or poor | |
Anymore with stolen pride | |
Under black age toil we live | |
Oh scornful masters we leave our homes | |
Under black age toil our sweat runs bold | |
Let the pestilence resolve our end | |
We won' t leave our fathers land | |
We won' t learn trial patience for a customary cross | |
We' ve abandonded to relieve and heal | |
Even strong men with their hearts of steel | |
And the beggars, fools our knights and kings | |
Met the demon with this blackened wings |
zuò qǔ : Parcharidis, Wolf | |
Under black age toil we live | |
That night the stars shot madly from | |
Their spheres and we' re raging like a violent storm | |
And the moon that was no crescent but | |
His horns were visible within the circumference | |
One saw more devils vastest hell can hold | |
Within moonshine we left to bury the dead | |
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve | |
The pestilence has taken our eyesight | |
And our graves are gaping wide | |
Everyone sets forth his dying sprite | |
And the church way paths to glide | |
Through dead bodies nor rich or poor | |
Anymore with stolen pride | |
Under black age toil we live | |
Oh scornful masters we leave our homes | |
Under black age toil our sweat runs bold | |
Let the pestilence resolve our end | |
We won' t leave our fathers land | |
We won' t learn trial patience for a customary cross | |
We' ve abandonded to relieve and heal | |
Even strong men with their hearts of steel | |
And the beggars, fools our knights and kings | |
Met the demon with this blackened wings |