Marching Homewards Lyrics
| Song | Marching Homewards |
| Artist | Summoning |
| Album | Minas Morgul |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Summoning | |
| here beside me, under endless howling winds | |
| my dying race is wandering homewards, | |
| led by an old man to shores. that don't exist, | |
| just emptiness remains... | |
| on and on goes our march gruesome as the | |
| light of sun, cold as winds that hide in me | |
| hour after hour, day after day my lullaby is | |
| turning and falls gently on this sleeping land | |
| like a hawk trembling of hunger and like a | |
| burning source... | |
| two years have passed and still my race is | |
| wandering through foreign shores... | |
| homewards... | |
| My soul is now formed as a knife forwards | |
| the heart of your heaven. | |
| And so I die... | |
| Still my folk keeps on marching... | |
| homewards... |
| zuo qu : Summoning | |
| here beside me, under endless howling winds | |
| my dying race is wandering homewards, | |
| led by an old man to shores. that don' t exist, | |
| just emptiness remains... | |
| on and on goes our march gruesome as the | |
| light of sun, cold as winds that hide in me | |
| hour after hour, day after day my lullaby is | |
| turning and falls gently on this sleeping land | |
| like a hawk trembling of hunger and like a | |
| burning source... | |
| two years have passed and still my race is | |
| wandering through foreign shores... | |
| homewards... | |
| My soul is now formed as a knife forwards | |
| the heart of your heaven. | |
| And so I die... | |
| Still my folk keeps on marching... | |
| homewards... |
| zuò qǔ : Summoning | |
| here beside me, under endless howling winds | |
| my dying race is wandering homewards, | |
| led by an old man to shores. that don' t exist, | |
| just emptiness remains... | |
| on and on goes our march gruesome as the | |
| light of sun, cold as winds that hide in me | |
| hour after hour, day after day my lullaby is | |
| turning and falls gently on this sleeping land | |
| like a hawk trembling of hunger and like a | |
| burning source... | |
| two years have passed and still my race is | |
| wandering through foreign shores... | |
| homewards... | |
| My soul is now formed as a knife forwards | |
| the heart of your heaven. | |
| And so I die... | |
| Still my folk keeps on marching... | |
| homewards... |
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