Текст песни Into Oblivion - So Bloweth The Winds Of War
Жанр: | Death Metal / Black Metal |
Исполнитель: | Into Oblivion |
Альбом: | Paragon |
Длительность: | 12:08 |
Рейтинг: | 14 |
MP3: | Скачать |
Загрузил: | lawronchik |
Текст:
Imperial winds blow from the west Once more our Might shall rise Our Bows of Burning Gold Let fly arrows of desire Spears transfix our Destiny To the hearts of the Enemy Thundering chariots of fire Driving Armageddon before us Conquest and war, the bow and the sword Adroitly pierce and cleave the bone Famine and Death, the scale and the scythe Astutely weigh and reap these souls Behold the Infinite Majesty! Enthroned in Clouds and Fire! The gleam of a thousand blades piercing the skies The shadow of a thousand dooms upon our foes The blood of the sun drowning the Vault Entombed within its Solstice Funeral zephyrs blow On hallowed plains of strife As Eagles gird Empyreum's blaze Talons grasp the burning wreath The Ritual of blood and iron unfolds Into whirlwinds of pandemonium Now is the feasting of swords Content when blue blades flame and crimson Dead to the world as we are to their steel Striving for Life beyond illusion THIS IS THE COMMAND OF THE PATRIARCH! We are summoned from beyond to awaken our Ancestry ESTABLISH THE ELDER LINES! Our ranks form the bulwark to the onslaught of our enemies PROTECTED BY HERALDRY! We sacrifice our blood to appease Ancient Deities CHALICE UPON CHANTRY! It is said that these lands are the Cradle of Divinity HIDDEN WITHIN THE MIST! The world is but dust in the Eyes of Reality THRALL TO THE HAND OF TIME! We come to spill our coffers and quest for Eternity FOLLOW THE VOICE OF BLOOD! Legions of Dead lay before me On the bonestrewn path to Victory We thrive on the whim of Cessation To catch a glimpses of our Destiny In a forest of Tombs and sanguine mists Where Being vexes our wandering coffins Home is but a spectre among the murk A veil of gold and rusted swords Swathed about the mystery of the Sin-Eater I drink bitterness from this empty chalice Onwards, by desolate ways Foreign to the footfalls of our Fathers Unceasing in Mental Fight As our swords sing in our hands We grasp beyond mortal throne and scepter Towards the gleam of the Forgotten Race
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