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歌詞
The great truth is there isn't one 
And it only gets worse since that conclusion 
The irony of being an extension to nothing 
And the force of inertia is now a vital factor 
And there is despair underneath each and every action 
Each and every attempt to pierce the armour of numbness 
Burning bridges becomes a habit to support 
And the front line expands like there's no tomorrow 
I envy the maggots 
Their stuff at least sticks together 
Better than laudations of misinformed seers 
And those are lengthy annals of shame that we work with 
It's like dumping dead meat at the brink of Styx 
With a barge that we made of what was left of Yggdrasil 
After veterans of spiritual revolts were done with their armchairs 
And I don't even remember which brink is which 
The odour of sanctity is just refined stench of existence 
Shining pearl of Augeas' crown pales in comparison 
Each and every attempt to pierce the armour of numbness 
And there is despair underneath each and every action 
Burning bridges becomes a habit to support 
And the front line expands like there's no tomorrow 
The grotesque eagles of misfortune, well fed on Thanatos, sit still 
It's the dignity of scavengers at the ever growing garbage dump of life 
There is something about the rigid posture of a proper, authentic blind 
As if extended arms reached to pass his blindness onto others
lrc 歌詞
[00:00.000]
[00:59.694]The great truth is there isn't one 
[01:05.773]And it only gets worse since that conclusion 
[01:12.723]The irony of being an extension to nothing 
[01:18.490]And the force of inertia is now a vital factor 
[01:25.423]
[01:48.308]And there is despair underneath each and every action 
[01:55.170]Each and every attempt to pierce the armour of numbness 
[02:01.225]Burning bridges becomes a habit to support 
[02:08.030]And the front line expands like there's no tomorrow 
[02:13.267]
[02:38.000]I envy the maggots 
[02:43.911]Their stuff at least sticks together 
[02:49.630]Better than laudations of misinformed seers 
[02:55.312]And those are lengthy annals of shame that we work with 
[03:00.578]
[03:01.193]It's like dumping dead meat at the brink of Styx 
[03:07.240]With a barge that we made of what was left of Yggdrasil 
[03:13.181]After veterans of spiritual revolts were done with their armchairs 
[03:19.901]And I don't even remember which brink is which 
[03:25.601]
[04:14.196]The odour of sanctity is just refined stench of existence 
[04:25.500]Shining pearl of Augeas' crown pales in comparison 
[04:35.020]
[05:00.200]And there is despair underneath each and every action 
[05:00.182]Each and every attempt to pierce the armour of numbness 
[05:13.219]Burning bridges becomes a habit to support 
[05:19.918]And the front line expands like there's no tomorrow 
[05:25.279]
[05:49.526]The grotesque eagles of misfortune, well fed on Thanatos, sit still 
[06:01.984]It's the dignity of scavengers at the ever growing garbage dump of life 
[06:13.600]
[06:38.026]There is something about the rigid posture of a proper, authentic blind 
[06:49.836]As if extended arms reached to pass his blindness onto others
[07:02.303]
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