Vampires lost, under the burning sun. of eternal daylight, one million suns, burning, pale skin, blurring...
gothic
darkwave
ethereal
industrial
vampire
sad
medieval
monster
requiem
Story behind the song
Since i live in mexico, to be around wearing all black long coat, is not very easy, but i got used to it, i just feel some melancholy, for the grey days of rain, in these spring burning days...
Lyrics
Exiled from the light,
we trek amongst these darkned fields
The voices of darkness (rot breathes,)
chanting the black speech of silence
Leading us,to these catacombs
Last of frail aspirations slain,
seeming destined to remain forever lifeless
Lost, in a lethal dream.
Barren and hollow.
We are the unholy children of the night
Condemned to be kept in here
For centuries
Till the day when the
Suns fade away
I fear the sun that shines over me
And burns my skin
It arises and shines over me
And burns my soul, over me
Suffering the glow
Of the evil sun
That always shines
And never fades away
Days wich seems that will never end
The sun is cruel, I'm sure of that
It won't ttake my life...
Just wants to see me suffering
I'm suffering
One millios suns
i could not just die
One million lights
And no peaceful shadows that can be found
Just catacombs can keep me safe
From the acheing light!
The black wind hisses ushering in ill fortune.
It foresees death coming.
The seer of kismet and doom. Whisper on the wind.
Treading in footsteps of gloom.
Troop the path of ebon crows.
We'll be safe into these vaults
If someone dares to go outside
I'm sure that he will not die
But will just turn into a waliking corpse
May these merciful shadowlight
Hide and protect me from the sun
I feel the sun that shines over me
And burns my skin
It arises and shines over me
And burns my soul, over me
Suffering the light
Of the evil sun
That always shines
i'm suffering
Low and behold faceless devilry.
A villain who yearns to taste the glow.
Vampires lost, and burnt under desertic sun
In our quest to the opal blood of the earth.
And if we die
From the ash we shall rush
Searing riptide contradicts the light that gave us life.
Routing the abyss that gave us birth.
We, the unholy children, of the night
(eternal)