Dying Land
Dying Land - Darkseed
The last bird from a scattered flock
Seeks shelter in a tree
Alone amongst the
Lonely woods
He will cry
When noone hears
He will fall when noone cares
Palls of grief
Hanging in the clouds
What must go wrong
So that we see
There's not enough
To make
Us stop
We are the devils
Of a dying land
What evil spirit
Holds us here
We wear a
Careless mask
Making friends with
Death
We are the devils
Of a dying land
Mankind took all
Nature's pride
Mercy out of sight
Demons
Dark around us swarm
Forests'
Last time
The short last sound
Of singing birds
We don't know
What it means
Will we ever know
A world where iron shells
Can kill men's blood
A world of emptiness
A dying land
We are the devils
Of a dying land
What evil spirit
Holds us
Here
We wear a
Careless mask
Making friends with
Death
We are the devils
Of a dying land
We are the devils
Of a dying land
What evil spirit
Holds us here
We wear
A careless mask
Making friends
With death
We are devils
Of a dying land
We are the devils
Of a dying land
What evil spirit
Holds us here
We wear a
Careless mask
Making friends with death
We are the devils
Of a dying land