Вокалоид - Funeral Нeaven | Текст песни

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• Вокалоид
• Funeral Нeaven

Patriotic innocence
Sad country's tragedy
Peeling skin, plucked intestines
Dispose of the kill in a slow tomb
Patriotic innocence
Sad country's tragedy
Felling the West's rational equations
Traitor's death

River of seven colors, sky of five colors
Frothing sea, drowning fish
One-eyed beast, two-headed child

Illuminates the bald mountain, the red star

My dead corpse that should return home
Without the earth

The birds, the sky is still flying
If they still remain they come to the meeting
Minced body and
A woodpecker collecting the history

Feet tied together, bent at the wrists
The severed kind, the culled future

Broken writing brush, drawn blackout curtain
A mouth kept silent, eyes sewn shut

The soul that should return home

Without the samsara

The sky, the birds are still flying
If it exists, take me with you

The three legged raven
Myself and the like already forgot

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