| Song | Primal Breath |
| Artist | At the Gates |
| Album | Suicidal Final Acts |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Alf, At the Gates ... | |
| Look the herons in the green billed water | |
| Their wet ash wings wear medallions of patience | |
| We drift on, we have stories as old as the great seas | |
| Break through the chest, flying out the mouth | |
| Noisy tongues that once were silenced | |
| All the oceans we contain, coming to light | |
| All the dark birds rush from the river | |
| Leaving only the stillness of their language | |
| There are no clocks to measure time | |
| But the beating of our single hearts | |
| You will know it is winter | |
| By the way your dreams tremble like stones | |
| When the wind comes through | |
| The wind, full of hearts that beat quick and strong |
| zuo ci : Alf, At the Gates ... | |
| Look the herons in the green billed water | |
| Their wet ash wings wear medallions of patience | |
| We drift on, we have stories as old as the great seas | |
| Break through the chest, flying out the mouth | |
| Noisy tongues that once were silenced | |
| All the oceans we contain, coming to light | |
| All the dark birds rush from the river | |
| Leaving only the stillness of their language | |
| There are no clocks to measure time | |
| But the beating of our single hearts | |
| You will know it is winter | |
| By the way your dreams tremble like stones | |
| When the wind comes through | |
| The wind, full of hearts that beat quick and strong |
| zuò cí : Alf, At the Gates ... | |
| Look the herons in the green billed water | |
| Their wet ash wings wear medallions of patience | |
| We drift on, we have stories as old as the great seas | |
| Break through the chest, flying out the mouth | |
| Noisy tongues that once were silenced | |
| All the oceans we contain, coming to light | |
| All the dark birds rush from the river | |
| Leaving only the stillness of their language | |
| There are no clocks to measure time | |
| But the beating of our single hearts | |
| You will know it is winter | |
| By the way your dreams tremble like stones | |
| When the wind comes through | |
| The wind, full of hearts that beat quick and strong |