歌手:Clyso
专辑:《Blood-dripping Judgment》

作词 : Clyso
作曲 : Clyso
编曲 : Clyso
In the hollow of midnight's shroud,
Where shadows twist and cold winds howl,
The moon, a pale and spectral guide,
Watches over the graveyard wide.
Beneath the whispering trees so old,
Where gnarled branches in darkness fold,
The silence breaks with spectral screams,
Echoing through the foggy dreams.
Grave markers stand with names erased,
In a place where time has long been chased.
The earth itself seems to breathe with dread,
As restless spirits rise from the dead.
A chill of fear wraps tight around,
As unseen eyes in darkness bound.
In every creak and mournful moan,
Lurks the unknown, the cold, the lone.
The night stretches, endless and black,
Where the past and future intertwine,
In this realm where shadows lie,
And the echoes of terror never die.
In the hollow of midnight's shroud,
Where shadows twist and cold winds howl,
The moon, a pale and spectral guide,
Watches over the graveyard wide.
Beneath the whispering trees so old,
Where gnarled branches in darkness fold,
The silence breaks with spectral screams,
Echoing through the foggy dreams.
Grave markers stand with names erased,
In a place where time has long been chased.
The earth itself seems to breathe with dread,
As restless spirits rise from the dead.
A chill of fear wraps tight around,
As unseen eyes in darkness bound.
In every creak and mournful moan,
Lurks the unknown, the cold, the lone.
The night stretches, endless and black,
Where the past and future intertwine,
In this realm where shadows lie,
And the echoes of terror never die.
In the hollow of midnight's shroud,
Where shadows twist and cold winds howl,
The moon, a pale and spectral guide,
Watches over the graveyard wide.
Beneath the whispering trees so old,
Where gnarled branches in darkness fold,
The silence breaks with spectral screams,
Echoing through the foggy dreams.
Grave markers stand with names erased,
In a place where time has long been chased.
The earth itself seems to breathe with dread,
As restless spirits rise from the dead.
A chill of fear wraps tight around,
As unseen eyes in darkness bound.
In every creak and mournful moan,
Lurks the unknown, the cold, the lone.
The night stretches, endless and black,
Where the past and future intertwine,
In this realm where shadows lie,
And the echoes of terror never die.