Letra de The Scythe (Remastered)
On this night of nights, she's coming my way Under this rain, dirty with agony and pain Mistress of doom, winner of all fights My glance is reflected in the blade of the scytheA sparkling golden sickle mows down souls whistling in the air Reddens little by little the seas of life and mankind's lairs A fall into the abyss, deep into agony and pain Spiral down to the anguish, it has been all in vain All in vain, goWelcome, please join the fair of failures Enter into the hall of pleasures Righteous the act to kill Or wasn't it one of God's wills?You leave behind all the trails of winter The time has come for me to go Though the fear has gone, the storm is over And there's someone at your doorAnother name to be carved for every slash of my blade Until the day you find the one reflected is your faceCome, taste blood, rust and terror Come to the show with no restraint It's your timeThe mother of desperation, death of thunder and rain Sighs and tears are all in vain Clad in a cloak of despair, she'll take you awayWelcome, please, join the fair of failures Enter into the hall of pleasures Righteous the act to kill Or wasn't it one of God's wills? Yeah, yeahYou leave behind all the trails of winter The time has come for me to go Though the fear has gone, the storm is over And there's someone at your doorHold your ground and watch your back With the aim of remaining the last I asked this night for a piece of advice This time, the scythe won't fall, keep stillStillStillYou leave behind all the trails of winter The time has come for me to go Though the fear has gone, the storm is over And there's someone at your doorHold your ground and watch your back With the aim of remaining the last I asked this night for a piece of advice This time, the scythe won't fall, keep stillYou leave behind all the trails of winter The time has come for me to go Though the fear has gone, the storm is over And there's someone at your doorThe time has come for trails of winter The time has come for me to go Though the fear has gone, the storm is over And...And if you follow the trails down this winter wake She's reaping down souls, one for every flake Throughout the ages, through centuries She, mistress of customs of memories