The Dawn Of Death ( "To mark the arrival of the final hour" / Symphonic Metal | AI Music & Video )

Описание: Lyrics:

[Intro]

[Verse]
The frost settles on the iron gate
Where the grey wolves gather to wait
The heavy scent of the turning tide
Nowhere left for the sun to hide
A crow sits perched on a broken cart
Counting the beats of a slowing heart
The shadows stretch like fingers of ink
Pulling the world across the brink

[Pre-Chorus]
The lanterns flicker and then they fail
The breath turns white behind the veil
A final toll from the chapel tower
To mark the arrival of the final hour

[Chorus]
This is the dawn of death
The silver mist on the cooling breath
The long night blooming in the pale morning sky
Where the old illusions go to die
The dawn of death is breathing low
Over the garden where the thistles grow
The great silence waking from its sleep
Promises that the darkness meant to keep

[Chorus]
This is the dawn of death
The silver mist on the cooling breath
The long night blooming in the pale morning sky
Where the old illusions go to die
The dawn of death is breathing low
Over the garden where the thistles grow
The great silence waking from its sleep
Promises that the darkness meant to keep

[Verse]
The farmer leaves his plow in the dirt
Heals the ache and the ancient hurt
The rivers thicken to a leaden sheen
Between the places where we have been
No more gravel under the traveling shoe
Just the heavy weight of the morning dew
The clocks are frozen at a quarter to none
Waiting for the arrival of the black sun

[Pre-Chorus]
The lanterns flicker and then they fail
The breath turns white behind the veil
A final toll from the chapel tower
To mark the arrival of the final hour

[Chorus]
This is the dawn of death
The silver mist on the cooling breath
The long night blooming in the pale morning sky
Where the old illusions go to die
The dawn of death is breathing low
Over the garden where the thistles grow
The great silence waking from its sleep
Promises that the darkness meant to keep

[Chorus]
This is the dawn of death
The silver mist on the cooling breath
The long night blooming in the pale morning sky
Where the old illusions go to die
The dawn of death is breathing low
Over the garden where the thistles grow
The great silence waking from its sleep
Promises that the darkness meant to keep

[Outro]

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