You think that this night will be the last,
|
the loathsome details of this tranquillity,
|
beyond from the last frontiers of the mother earth
|
all of a sweat bodies and black murky shapes.
|
|
Recollections and dirges mangled by the time,
|
the ideals worships of this crude religion, after every dawn,
|
hoping for a rainbow that may never come,
|
shadows which you can't feel.
|
|
[CHORUS:]
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Macabre apparition, like a flight of dead swans,
|
unable to see the forest for the trees.
|
|
[BRIDGE:]
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An oasis which is not an illusion it will be forever there waiting.
|
|
You think that this night will be the last,
|
the loathsome details of this tranquillity,
|
beyond from the last frontiers of the mother earth
|
all of a sweat bodies and black murky shapes.
|
|
[CHORUS]
|
|
-----------------
|
Macabre Apparition
|
| Nightrage |
