| Song | Dismay |
| Artist | Mirrorthrone |
| Album | Gangrene |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Vladimir | |
| Once a man built a large and grotesque wall | |
| Of cracked stones, dead hopes and bruised limbs. | |
| He wanted it to protect himself against a deep growl | |
| Of a storm carrying remorse and memories of sins. | |
| Below the faded sun, he spent his entire lifetime | |
| In hiding from any truth, in masking his crime | |
| In an attempt to castrate his already sexless flesh, | |
| Blindly fleeing from any recollection of thresh. | |
| Thus this pathetic living corpse was joined | |
| By other insipid souls in this work for them purloined. | |
| And generations massively adopted the habit | |
| Instituted by this mad man drowning in his vomit. | |
| Gathered they were, each saying no to life | |
| With such ignorance, overabundant and rife, | |
| But still firmly meaning what they could only ignore | |
| Chained themselves under a sky to love and implore. | |
| But what can he, who has not pierced eyes, do | |
| When he discovers such a wretched view: | |
| Impotent armies of degenerated and naked warriors | |
| Brandishing a banner where it is with gold thread knitted "ERROR". | |
| There were so many of them at the bottom of the wall | |
| That even in one hundred years you couldn't count them all | |
| Though weak, their number was doing that one man alone | |
| Couldn't make them fall and destroy their throne. | |
| Giving up all phantasms of grandeur, there is no boiling war to be declared; | |
| Just frozen and wild fancies, orgasmic visions of excruciated traitors immolated. | |
| Glaring at nothing but my own rage, feeding from my overwhelming hate | |
| Without melancholy but fury, I collapse in my engrieved fate. | |
| Of the two available roads one leads to starvation, and the other one to prostitution. | |
| The first one embraced me, as I choose death and self-abnegation. | |
| Now the memories of their distorted faces is slowly fading away, | |
| Even refusing to follow me as I sink into merciless dismay. |
| zuo qu : Vladimir | |
| Once a man built a large and grotesque wall | |
| Of cracked stones, dead hopes and bruised limbs. | |
| He wanted it to protect himself against a deep growl | |
| Of a storm carrying remorse and memories of sins. | |
| Below the faded sun, he spent his entire lifetime | |
| In hiding from any truth, in masking his crime | |
| In an attempt to castrate his already sexless flesh, | |
| Blindly fleeing from any recollection of thresh. | |
| Thus this pathetic living corpse was joined | |
| By other insipid souls in this work for them purloined. | |
| And generations massively adopted the habit | |
| Instituted by this mad man drowning in his vomit. | |
| Gathered they were, each saying no to life | |
| With such ignorance, overabundant and rife, | |
| But still firmly meaning what they could only ignore | |
| Chained themselves under a sky to love and implore. | |
| But what can he, who has not pierced eyes, do | |
| When he discovers such a wretched view: | |
| Impotent armies of degenerated and naked warriors | |
| Brandishing a banner where it is with gold thread knitted " ERROR". | |
| There were so many of them at the bottom of the wall | |
| That even in one hundred years you couldn' t count them all | |
| Though weak, their number was doing that one man alone | |
| Couldn' t make them fall and destroy their throne. | |
| Giving up all phantasms of grandeur, there is no boiling war to be declared | |
| Just frozen and wild fancies, orgasmic visions of excruciated traitors immolated. | |
| Glaring at nothing but my own rage, feeding from my overwhelming hate | |
| Without melancholy but fury, I collapse in my engrieved fate. | |
| Of the two available roads one leads to starvation, and the other one to prostitution. | |
| The first one embraced me, as I choose death and selfabnegation. | |
| Now the memories of their distorted faces is slowly fading away, | |
| Even refusing to follow me as I sink into merciless dismay. |
| zuò qǔ : Vladimir | |
| Once a man built a large and grotesque wall | |
| Of cracked stones, dead hopes and bruised limbs. | |
| He wanted it to protect himself against a deep growl | |
| Of a storm carrying remorse and memories of sins. | |
| Below the faded sun, he spent his entire lifetime | |
| In hiding from any truth, in masking his crime | |
| In an attempt to castrate his already sexless flesh, | |
| Blindly fleeing from any recollection of thresh. | |
| Thus this pathetic living corpse was joined | |
| By other insipid souls in this work for them purloined. | |
| And generations massively adopted the habit | |
| Instituted by this mad man drowning in his vomit. | |
| Gathered they were, each saying no to life | |
| With such ignorance, overabundant and rife, | |
| But still firmly meaning what they could only ignore | |
| Chained themselves under a sky to love and implore. | |
| But what can he, who has not pierced eyes, do | |
| When he discovers such a wretched view: | |
| Impotent armies of degenerated and naked warriors | |
| Brandishing a banner where it is with gold thread knitted " ERROR". | |
| There were so many of them at the bottom of the wall | |
| That even in one hundred years you couldn' t count them all | |
| Though weak, their number was doing that one man alone | |
| Couldn' t make them fall and destroy their throne. | |
| Giving up all phantasms of grandeur, there is no boiling war to be declared | |
| Just frozen and wild fancies, orgasmic visions of excruciated traitors immolated. | |
| Glaring at nothing but my own rage, feeding from my overwhelming hate | |
| Without melancholy but fury, I collapse in my engrieved fate. | |
| Of the two available roads one leads to starvation, and the other one to prostitution. | |
| The first one embraced me, as I choose death and selfabnegation. | |
| Now the memories of their distorted faces is slowly fading away, | |
| Even refusing to follow me as I sink into merciless dismay. |