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Graveland lyrics

...and The Horn Was Sounding Far Away

Original and similar lyrics
When my spirit was roaming among the winter's fog I saw my grey brother wolf drinking my blood. My body lay on the snow, disabled, mortally wounted. I, the last of the mountain's clan, Pursued and wounded by enemies, Passed away in this place. I'm still hearing the horn sounding far away, Herds of ravens are following there. But I can't get there anymore... I am so far from my burnt home. I see the snow falling on my face, But I am not able to throw it down. I see my eyes closed And mouths concealed in pain, They will never say anything more... Winds bring the black clouds... Soon the thick snow will fall. Wind ! Hide my dead body ! I hear my persecutors are coming... I will regenerate In the shape of wolf with black bristle. I will draw my fangs In the river of enemies' blood

Snow Queen

THE ASSOCIATION "Waterbeds In Trinidad!"
High on a snow-covered mountain From her throne she looks down at the clowns Who think youth can be found in a fountain High on the wings of her rhythms She will smile at the guys who come on with their eyes But she'll never dance with them And in smoke-filled rooms of electric sound A legend is built around The Snow Queen You may believe you're a winner But with her you will soon bite the dust And discover you're just a beginner You may not think you're a loser But in mid-air you'll be hung while you trip on your tongue And it'll only amuse her In the morning air you are frozen there Caught in the icy stare of The Snow Queen No, my friend, she doesn't want what you're selling My friend, there must be a place you can hide And into the night you'll fade, knowing you lost the game And just how she got her name of The Snow Queen

The Trees Get Wheeled Away Or Trees: Live In Austi

BRIGHT EYES
increments spike their blood where a mass of mud cucumbers cut to fit their eyes and so no one would know how tired they've grown of talking and telling their lies while your TVs change stations scroll messages victims and Christians both drinking blood and they pray for the destruction of all hatred more often just those with hate for us cause it hurts when you discover one's worse and one's better to suffer or cause others to and you can live by your conscience now guilt is a concept you're no longer subscribing to there's a virgin in my bed and she's taking off her dress and I'm not sure what i am gonna do there's a song stuck in my head and i can't help singing it oh how i hope my singing pleases you cause i am not who i become but what you made me into oh we got no health insurance no cellular service no disease they can cure but we need more money to burn so each person must learn the dollar amount they are worth and your pills make me dizzy forgetting my body i watch as it walks away and i just keep drinking the poison and smoking the cartons a pack and a half a day so when time comes to claim me my friends and my family will gather around my grave and they'll believe that they knew me and love me and miss me and all call me by my name so imagine what you want and then hold on to that thought cause that's as close as it will ever come and believe you're where you are and keep acting out the part but at the end of the end of the day the trees all get wheeled away and you'll be standing alone in a blank blank space So believe you're who you are and stay in character but at the end of the play the audience walks away and you'll be a shivering cold on a well lit stage.

Curse Of The Virgin Canvas

ALESANA "The Emptiness"
(I am here to tell you a story. A story that will torture your thoughts by day and poison your dreams by night. And though I will do my best, there are no words That can be written nor brush strokes laid on canvas That can describe the stark and utter horror of the night that Annabel died. The emptiness will haunt you.) This is a nightmare, is my Annabel really gone? My eyes are stung by daylight, I find it hard to breathe. Her body teases me as the sun reveals the dawn. The smell of blood still crawls, I kiss you softly goodbye. Baby, lay in my arms and cuddle me close. Soon this will be just an awful memory... Will I ever be able to sleep again? My angel lie to me and tell me I'm dreaming. (Please wake me up, please wake me). A girl like you will always be such a tragic part of me. (Oh ecstasy you torture me). I watch the blood drip from the corners of your mouth. Your icy flesh is lying, your pallid skin still glows. I'm starting to believe what my eyes are seeing now. You're still so beautiful and yet so morbidly still. Baby, lay in my arms and cuddle me close. Soon this will be just an awful memory... Will I ever be able to sleep again? My angel lie to me and tell me I'm dreaming. (Please wake me up, please wake me). A girl like you will always be such a tragic part of me. (Oh ecstasy you torture me). Sweet revenge... He will pay (my!), he will pay (dear!) Empty eyes accuse a face so evil, I'm coming undone. The mirror says it all, a crimson story of innocence lost. Empty eyes accuse a face so evil, I'm coming undone. What have I done to her? So terribly memory returns of her struggle, of her screams, of her. Lord forgive me! My stomach heaves as I see the blood that covers me. Blood that was once hers. I'm a monster! ... Such an awful memory... Will I ever be able to sleep again? My angel lie to me and tell me I'm dreaming. (Please wake me up, please wake me). A girl like you will always be such a tragic part of me. (Oh ecstasy you torture me). Sweet revenge... I will pay (my!), I will pay (dear!) (A mirror never lies. They know. Everybody knows. Do you not see what they see? A mirror never lies. I see what they see. Everybody knows. Everybody knows.)

1915

ANTI-FLAG "The General Strike"
In a letter to every president, congressman, career politician, Scrawled in spite across the envelope With all of our conviction. In only took a few hours for his peers To find him guilty in a trial too fair, A wobblie, immigrant worker has no place among the living. "My body if I could choose to ashes it reduce." Murdered by the capitalist, November 1915 be careful of what you wish. Who is wrong and who is righteous? What was stolen from us we will replace, Off with the head on the body we feast, Who is wrong and who is righteous, Will never be our own decision. He yelled fire to the squad with guns, they stopped his heart from beating. Every word he wrote, he spoke, he sung, we are still singing: "My body if I could choose to ashes it reduce, And let the breezes blow my dust to where some flowers grow. Perhaps some fading flower then would come to life and bloom again". If the workers take a notion, They can stop all speeding trains, Every ship upon the ocean. They can tie with mighty chains Every wheel in the creation, Every mine and every mill. Fleets and armies of all nations Will at our command stand still.

Pain

Luxt "Jezabel Thirteen Three"
You'll never make me feel it, although you probably could. I won't accept this failure even though you say I should. I'll grit my teeth and bear this raping of my common sense, And wait the morning that inevitably will rinse Away the innocence now broken down between these lies, That fire so rapidly and try to cleave my stiffened thighs. But if I swallow, know I swallow blood here with your smiling Scarred and greasy face amongst the rot and piss and bile. You suffering does no damage to me, I'm a tool of your greed and your lies to succeed, You've built this tiny little empire on the weakest of foundations will your jealousy and guilt never tire? This blood is boiling over, this heart so near to burst, if it weren't for this hunger, I would have died of thirst. This head is pounding louder, this will sees through your lies, you're made of nothing in the end, you're all that I despise. Surround yourself with doubt, put money in your veins Immersed within your outs, you deserve your pain. You deserve your pain.

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