Song | Into The Ashes |
Artist | Abigail Williams |
Album | In The Shadow of 1000 Suns |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Ellyllon, Sorceron | |
You call from the shadows | |
and curse my blood in the wind | |
you speak in riddles | |
the substance which is chipping away | |
at the garden so balefully | |
I will hunt you | |
and even your god can't save you | |
when the wind blows | |
a mourning morning whispers serenity | |
there's none to be had | |
I will curse the very soil you walk | |
until you drown in your own shame | |
and feel the sweet kiss of death across your cold skin | |
under the pale horned moon | |
Their blood is stricken and cursed to the outer hills | |
We conquer | |
all in the sign of evil | |
into the cold embrace | |
as the wind blows through the willows | |
and the signature of man | |
has blinded the stars and the infinities beyond | |
Reclaim the alter | |
rewrite the books | |
I will hunt you | |
and even your god can't save you | |
when the wind blows | |
a mourning morning whispers serenity | |
there's none to be had |
zuo qu : Ellyllon, Sorceron | |
You call from the shadows | |
and curse my blood in the wind | |
you speak in riddles | |
the substance which is chipping away | |
at the garden so balefully | |
I will hunt you | |
and even your god can' t save you | |
when the wind blows | |
a mourning morning whispers serenity | |
there' s none to be had | |
I will curse the very soil you walk | |
until you drown in your own shame | |
and feel the sweet kiss of death across your cold skin | |
under the pale horned moon | |
Their blood is stricken and cursed to the outer hills | |
We conquer | |
all in the sign of evil | |
into the cold embrace | |
as the wind blows through the willows | |
and the signature of man | |
has blinded the stars and the infinities beyond | |
Reclaim the alter | |
rewrite the books | |
I will hunt you | |
and even your god can' t save you | |
when the wind blows | |
a mourning morning whispers serenity | |
there' s none to be had |
zuò qǔ : Ellyllon, Sorceron | |
You call from the shadows | |
and curse my blood in the wind | |
you speak in riddles | |
the substance which is chipping away | |
at the garden so balefully | |
I will hunt you | |
and even your god can' t save you | |
when the wind blows | |
a mourning morning whispers serenity | |
there' s none to be had | |
I will curse the very soil you walk | |
until you drown in your own shame | |
and feel the sweet kiss of death across your cold skin | |
under the pale horned moon | |
Their blood is stricken and cursed to the outer hills | |
We conquer | |
all in the sign of evil | |
into the cold embrace | |
as the wind blows through the willows | |
and the signature of man | |
has blinded the stars and the infinities beyond | |
Reclaim the alter | |
rewrite the books | |
I will hunt you | |
and even your god can' t save you | |
when the wind blows | |
a mourning morning whispers serenity | |
there' s none to be had |