The Flute : Once again I am facing the battleground As the sunrise lays down its first rays. It is time for human blood to be spilled !
The Bard : My fingers are forced to dance on the wood, My lungs are emptied of their breath Shall this malison ever end?
The Flute : Never! In the hands of the bard, I will rejoice As the severed heads hit the ground. My bloodlust shall never be fulfilled.
The Bard : My fingers are forced to dance on the wood, My lungs are emptied of their breath Shall this malison ever end?
The Flute : Never! Out of an haunted wood I once was made. And as your breath flows through my old brown corpse, I sing a melody old of decades, That hides the screams of wrath and tears of blood Of a thousand men who died by the rope.
See how calm is that plain Before the men cover the ground With their guts Into rivers of red Under the sun!
The Storyteller : Warriors fought until the night And screams of pain ran through the bloodstained fields And now, the flesh of the dead Will feed the ravens 'til the dawn.
The Flute : Violence and fears of the men Have made my wooden heart tremble Now my singing will fly to the stars !
The Bard : My fingers are forced to dance on the wood, My lungs are emptied of their breath Shall this malison ever end?
The Flute : Never!
The Storyteller : And the ones who won the fight Will head back to their homes with joy and pride Tonight the flute of the bard Will sing her gloomy song of hate!
The Flute : Impatient to see some new blood flowing, I tell by my windy sound the horrors of war. As a leech I consume my owner’s breath In order to avenge a thousand souls I once held.
My furious melody shall penetrate the hearts of men As long as I travel through centuries. United in me, the souls of the hanged Are now the new hangmen for those who live.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.