Funeral, Swords And Souls
Old Mans Child
I proclaim the victim's fall
Now I shudder by the sight of you
Crucified by my nails
You hunger by my hammer
Born in pity, so raised in pity
And grown to be what's weak
Suffering beneath my blade
As you bend your knees to the dust
Voices, spirits and smoke
From the pyre up by the glistering
Never more was this seen
In happiness and joy
Memorize the ash
Beyond the shell
Of souls enfolded in blood
Raining flat, my hands
Sacramental juice from stabbed wounds
Born in pity, so raised in pity
And grown to be what's weak
Suffering beneath my blade
As you bend your knees to the dust
Voices spirits and smoke
From the pyre up by the glistering
Never more was this seen
In happiness and joy
Despise it. I do
The rise of mankind
Seen by time, all the years that went by
The rumbling of the night-thunder
Witnessed the stoning
Comentários
Envie dúvidas, explicações e curiosidades sobre a letra
Faça parte dessa comunidade
Tire dúvidas sobre idiomas, interaja com outros fãs de Old Mans Child e vá além da letra da música.
Conheça o Letras AcademyConfira nosso guia de uso para deixar comentários.
Enviar para a central de dúvidas?
Dúvidas enviadas podem receber respostas de professores e alunos da plataforma.
Fixe este conteúdo com a aula: