作词 : In Flames 作曲 : In Flames Rush faster on the one-way lane the answers so silent
Rusty gods in their machine-minds armours grind our souls in the millstone of time the "deathbed harvest" is dead man's banquet of mould ridden bread and black, poisoned wine
And we go..our steps so silent And we go..our blooded trace; The Jester Race
Calling our to the gathered masses; their answers so silent
And we go..
Embracing the tools of the neo-wolf age that speak of silence and silence alone
Offering the tokens, the reliced idols to the heirs of the newly raped ground inferior even to the transparent winds lesser in motion and sound
And we go..
There is no trace of me in their altered blueprints of life
Gaia impaled on their horns and lances to fumes from her body give case as the throng of blind mind savour the scent, dream-dead from prosaic and hate
Sunwind strokes the electroheart, ignition roars through the corridors, stream launching the binary vessels
Vanities in extreme formations ride into tomorrow's rigid great face The Machinery outlives the futile scripts of our dying jester race
作词 : In Flames 作曲 : In Flames Rush faster on the one-way lane the answers so silent
Rusty gods in their machine-minds armours grind our souls in the millstone of time the "deathbed harvest" is dead man's banquet of mould ridden bread and black, poisoned wine
And we go..our steps so silent And we go..our blooded trace; The Jester Race
Calling our to the gathered masses; their answers so silent
And we go..
Embracing the tools of the neo-wolf age that speak of silence and silence alone
Offering the tokens, the reliced idols to the heirs of the newly raped ground inferior even to the transparent winds lesser in motion and sound
And we go..
There is no trace of me in their altered blueprints of life
Gaia impaled on their horns and lances to fumes from her body give case as the throng of blind mind savour the scent, dream-dead from prosaic and hate
Sunwind strokes the electroheart, ignition roars through the corridors, stream launching the binary vessels
Vanities in extreme formations ride into tomorrow's rigid great face The Machinery outlives the futile scripts of our dying jester race
