Song | Birds Elope With The Sun |
Artist | The Agonist |
Album | Lullabies For The Dormant Mind |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Agonist | |
Air like water, water like stone, birds elopes with the sun. | |
A velvet quietus furtively draped over ears | |
Quartz underfoot and crystalline opal tears | |
Welcoming webs of gasping despair | |
Nival anphora textures the air | |
Anamnesis waltzes through... | |
The windows, shut tight, and the fires are fueled... | |
Reminding naÃveté of its magnitude's inferiority. | |
Skyward stretching arms become thin and weak. | |
Bony fingers comb the clouds then curl into fists, admitting defeat. | |
Blood concedes to gravity's pull, leaving hollow skeletons all erect, perforating the skyline -- an impenetrable cage... like skin drawn tight, and canvas cracked with age. | |
Escapist flights and lengthy nights as some succumb and slumber awakes... | |
Faces count minutes ‘til noon -- solar ghosts come kiss the moon goodnight -- grey memories for now. | |
A thousand families, down, will fall. | |
Nival tears bury them all! | |
Like absconding tides, birds elope with the sun. | |
A barren desert soaked in bleach | |
A sickly pallor and opal touch | |
Hallucinating, shattered glass falls as the atmosphere cracked and we are invaded by emptiness black. | |
The brain keeps the body company. | |
The continent is a new born, trying to breathe. | |
Accepting his fate and falling asleep, the child is a woman, resting in peace. | |
Accepting the sleep as a blackness forcing its way in and pushing air out through heavy lungs... | |
And heavy are the clouds that reach so deep and smother the land in a heavy shroud. | |
Eyes press closed and words are now visible. | |
The sky is an eggshell waiting to hatch. | |
The ground is the air, the wind, the trees, the | |
Earth, the water, the fire... | |
Sculptors working the clay, carving angels and gargoyles, and columns as pixies dance to appease the leaves. | |
Faces that once turned to catch the light, frown and turn desperately down towards darkness. | |
Float to the stiff, grey | |
Earth. |
zuo qu : Agonist | |
Air like water, water like stone, birds elopes with the sun. | |
A velvet quietus furtively draped over ears | |
Quartz underfoot and crystalline opal tears | |
Welcoming webs of gasping despair | |
Nival anphora textures the air | |
Anamnesis waltzes through... | |
The windows, shut tight, and the fires are fueled... | |
Reminding na vet of its magnitude' s inferiority. | |
Skyward stretching arms become thin and weak. | |
Bony fingers comb the clouds then curl into fists, admitting defeat. | |
Blood concedes to gravity' s pull, leaving hollow skeletons all erect, perforating the skyline an impenetrable cage... like skin drawn tight, and canvas cracked with age. | |
Escapist flights and lengthy nights as some succumb and slumber awakes... | |
Faces count minutes til noon solar ghosts come kiss the moon goodnight grey memories for now. | |
A thousand families, down, will fall. | |
Nival tears bury them all! | |
Like absconding tides, birds elope with the sun. | |
A barren desert soaked in bleach | |
A sickly pallor and opal touch | |
Hallucinating, shattered glass falls as the atmosphere cracked and we are invaded by emptiness black. | |
The brain keeps the body company. | |
The continent is a new born, trying to breathe. | |
Accepting his fate and falling asleep, the child is a woman, resting in peace. | |
Accepting the sleep as a blackness forcing its way in and pushing air out through heavy lungs... | |
And heavy are the clouds that reach so deep and smother the land in a heavy shroud. | |
Eyes press closed and words are now visible. | |
The sky is an eggshell waiting to hatch. | |
The ground is the air, the wind, the trees, the | |
Earth, the water, the fire... | |
Sculptors working the clay, carving angels and gargoyles, and columns as pixies dance to appease the leaves. | |
Faces that once turned to catch the light, frown and turn desperately down towards darkness. | |
Float to the stiff, grey | |
Earth. |
zuò qǔ : Agonist | |
Air like water, water like stone, birds elopes with the sun. | |
A velvet quietus furtively draped over ears | |
Quartz underfoot and crystalline opal tears | |
Welcoming webs of gasping despair | |
Nival anphora textures the air | |
Anamnesis waltzes through... | |
The windows, shut tight, and the fires are fueled... | |
Reminding na vet of its magnitude' s inferiority. | |
Skyward stretching arms become thin and weak. | |
Bony fingers comb the clouds then curl into fists, admitting defeat. | |
Blood concedes to gravity' s pull, leaving hollow skeletons all erect, perforating the skyline an impenetrable cage... like skin drawn tight, and canvas cracked with age. | |
Escapist flights and lengthy nights as some succumb and slumber awakes... | |
Faces count minutes til noon solar ghosts come kiss the moon goodnight grey memories for now. | |
A thousand families, down, will fall. | |
Nival tears bury them all! | |
Like absconding tides, birds elope with the sun. | |
A barren desert soaked in bleach | |
A sickly pallor and opal touch | |
Hallucinating, shattered glass falls as the atmosphere cracked and we are invaded by emptiness black. | |
The brain keeps the body company. | |
The continent is a new born, trying to breathe. | |
Accepting his fate and falling asleep, the child is a woman, resting in peace. | |
Accepting the sleep as a blackness forcing its way in and pushing air out through heavy lungs... | |
And heavy are the clouds that reach so deep and smother the land in a heavy shroud. | |
Eyes press closed and words are now visible. | |
The sky is an eggshell waiting to hatch. | |
The ground is the air, the wind, the trees, the | |
Earth, the water, the fire... | |
Sculptors working the clay, carving angels and gargoyles, and columns as pixies dance to appease the leaves. | |
Faces that once turned to catch the light, frown and turn desperately down towards darkness. | |
Float to the stiff, grey | |
Earth. |