Song | Marriage in Death |
Artist | Menace Ruine |
Album | Venus Armata |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
In the underworld again | |
I don’t know what happened | |
I thought I built a shelter of my own | |
Underground once more | |
J’entends sonner le glas | |
And the mourning of a mother | |
Roaming again in this corridor | |
Driven by these subterranean winds | |
That have cursed my way once | |
But all by myself this time, why? | |
And my horse is now winged and all white | |
But the same dried tears, and desolate ground | |
Will Spring finally come back? | |
Life will recover | |
And a new wind will rise | |
Spreading seeds of wheat | |
All over the Earth | |
And gold will multiply | |
Brighter and lighter | |
Together we’ll allow life to grow | |
A promise of harvest even if a late one | |
I won’t bend under the weight of snow on my wings | |
Nor fear the winds entering my bones, and hardening my blood | |
I’ll climb this waterfall backwards | |
However long it will take | |
A promise of harvest, a late one | |
But my heart will be in it | |
Finally my heart will make up its pulses | |
The sun will recover its power | |
Over the cycle of life | |
Brighter and lighter, | |
I will walk solemnly in your steps | |
And join you at the end of the road | |
For our marriage in death | |
Then spring will return once more, even if I don’t | |
It’s of little import, | |
As long as we are given back to ourselves | |
And spread the grains |
In the underworld again | |
I don' t know what happened | |
I thought I built a shelter of my own | |
Underground once more | |
J' entends sonner le glas | |
And the mourning of a mother | |
Roaming again in this corridor | |
Driven by these subterranean winds | |
That have cursed my way once | |
But all by myself this time, why? | |
And my horse is now winged and all white | |
But the same dried tears, and desolate ground | |
Will Spring finally come back? | |
Life will recover | |
And a new wind will rise | |
Spreading seeds of wheat | |
All over the Earth | |
And gold will multiply | |
Brighter and lighter | |
Together we' ll allow life to grow | |
A promise of harvest even if a late one | |
I won' t bend under the weight of snow on my wings | |
Nor fear the winds entering my bones, and hardening my blood | |
I' ll climb this waterfall backwards | |
However long it will take | |
A promise of harvest, a late one | |
But my heart will be in it | |
Finally my heart will make up its pulses | |
The sun will recover its power | |
Over the cycle of life | |
Brighter and lighter, | |
I will walk solemnly in your steps | |
And join you at the end of the road | |
For our marriage in death | |
Then spring will return once more, even if I don' t | |
It' s of little import, | |
As long as we are given back to ourselves | |
And spread the grains |
In the underworld again | |
I don' t know what happened | |
I thought I built a shelter of my own | |
Underground once more | |
J' entends sonner le glas | |
And the mourning of a mother | |
Roaming again in this corridor | |
Driven by these subterranean winds | |
That have cursed my way once | |
But all by myself this time, why? | |
And my horse is now winged and all white | |
But the same dried tears, and desolate ground | |
Will Spring finally come back? | |
Life will recover | |
And a new wind will rise | |
Spreading seeds of wheat | |
All over the Earth | |
And gold will multiply | |
Brighter and lighter | |
Together we' ll allow life to grow | |
A promise of harvest even if a late one | |
I won' t bend under the weight of snow on my wings | |
Nor fear the winds entering my bones, and hardening my blood | |
I' ll climb this waterfall backwards | |
However long it will take | |
A promise of harvest, a late one | |
But my heart will be in it | |
Finally my heart will make up its pulses | |
The sun will recover its power | |
Over the cycle of life | |
Brighter and lighter, | |
I will walk solemnly in your steps | |
And join you at the end of the road | |
For our marriage in death | |
Then spring will return once more, even if I don' t | |
It' s of little import, | |
As long as we are given back to ourselves | |
And spread the grains |