The Shadow Hunter Lyrics
| Song | The Shadow Hunter |
| Artist | Angra |
| Album | Temple of Shadows |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Bittencourt, Loureiro | |
| I remember the blood on his hands | |
| So ashamed regretting his faults | |
| So defenseless he came from the darkness | |
| We spoke and had a good talk | |
| Dark old hat reminds me of someone | |
| I find hard to recall | |
| Bowed his head surrendering to sorrow | |
| Wears the face of war | |
| Desperate cries | |
| (Desperate cries) | |
| Running in circles | |
| (Mourning in vain) | |
| Resigning to terror | |
| (A sinful warfare) | |
| A sinful warfare | |
| (Innocents die) | |
| Lost in the faith from my fragile heart... | |
| ...From my heart | |
| Wearing black, a bow without arrows | |
| God, have mercy on his soul | |
| Eyes of dread, entrenched in horror | |
| My devotions are gone! | |
| (Desperate cries) | |
| Running in circles | |
| (Mourning in vain) | |
| Resigning to terror | |
| (A sinful warfare) | |
| Atrocious attack | |
| (Atrocious attack) | |
| My crusader's faith | |
| Drowns in religious blood | |
| But I'll fight 'til the end | |
| Gonna find my Holy Grail | |
| Running blind against the faith | |
| Reason slips away | |
| Churches falling like castles on the sand | |
| Ends the Holy War | |
| Have the good for bad. | |
| (What does a man gain from his work | |
| Under the sun where he labors | |
| What is so good for a man in life? | |
| During his days he's just like a shadow | |
| Vanitas! Vanitas! Utters the oracle | |
| A chasing after the wind | |
| Meaningless! Meaningless searches for wisdom | |
| Everything is in vain like your hunting for shadows) | |
| Lost my pride, fought in vain | |
| Had to find reasons to my pain - Oh! | |
| Running blind against the faith | |
| Running blind again | |
| Church is falling like castles on the sand | |
| Ends the Holy War | |
| Jesus was a man | |
| With a heart, with a mind | |
| With a body, with a soul | |
| So divine as your own | |
| God has no mind, has no heart | |
| Has no body, has no soul and no resemblance of you. | |
| No! | |
| (Like chasing the wind...) |
| zuo qu : Bittencourt, Loureiro | |
| I remember the blood on his hands | |
| So ashamed regretting his faults | |
| So defenseless he came from the darkness | |
| We spoke and had a good talk | |
| Dark old hat reminds me of someone | |
| I find hard to recall | |
| Bowed his head surrendering to sorrow | |
| Wears the face of war | |
| Desperate cries | |
| Desperate cries | |
| Running in circles | |
| Mourning in vain | |
| Resigning to terror | |
| A sinful warfare | |
| A sinful warfare | |
| Innocents die | |
| Lost in the faith from my fragile heart... | |
| ... From my heart | |
| Wearing black, a bow without arrows | |
| God, have mercy on his soul | |
| Eyes of dread, entrenched in horror | |
| My devotions are gone! | |
| Desperate cries | |
| Running in circles | |
| Mourning in vain | |
| Resigning to terror | |
| A sinful warfare | |
| Atrocious attack | |
| Atrocious attack | |
| My crusader' s faith | |
| Drowns in religious blood | |
| But I' ll fight ' til the end | |
| Gonna find my Holy Grail | |
| Running blind against the faith | |
| Reason slips away | |
| Churches falling like castles on the sand | |
| Ends the Holy War | |
| Have the good for bad. | |
| What does a man gain from his work | |
| Under the sun where he labors | |
| What is so good for a man in life? | |
| During his days he' s just like a shadow | |
| Vanitas! Vanitas! Utters the oracle | |
| A chasing after the wind | |
| Meaningless! Meaningless searches for wisdom | |
| Everything is in vain like your hunting for shadows | |
| Lost my pride, fought in vain | |
| Had to find reasons to my pain Oh! | |
| Running blind against the faith | |
| Running blind again | |
| Church is falling like castles on the sand | |
| Ends the Holy War | |
| Jesus was a man | |
| With a heart, with a mind | |
| With a body, with a soul | |
| So divine as your own | |
| God has no mind, has no heart | |
| Has no body, has no soul and no resemblance of you. | |
| No! | |
| Like chasing the wind... |
| zuò qǔ : Bittencourt, Loureiro | |
| I remember the blood on his hands | |
| So ashamed regretting his faults | |
| So defenseless he came from the darkness | |
| We spoke and had a good talk | |
| Dark old hat reminds me of someone | |
| I find hard to recall | |
| Bowed his head surrendering to sorrow | |
| Wears the face of war | |
| Desperate cries | |
| Desperate cries | |
| Running in circles | |
| Mourning in vain | |
| Resigning to terror | |
| A sinful warfare | |
| A sinful warfare | |
| Innocents die | |
| Lost in the faith from my fragile heart... | |
| ... From my heart | |
| Wearing black, a bow without arrows | |
| God, have mercy on his soul | |
| Eyes of dread, entrenched in horror | |
| My devotions are gone! | |
| Desperate cries | |
| Running in circles | |
| Mourning in vain | |
| Resigning to terror | |
| A sinful warfare | |
| Atrocious attack | |
| Atrocious attack | |
| My crusader' s faith | |
| Drowns in religious blood | |
| But I' ll fight ' til the end | |
| Gonna find my Holy Grail | |
| Running blind against the faith | |
| Reason slips away | |
| Churches falling like castles on the sand | |
| Ends the Holy War | |
| Have the good for bad. | |
| What does a man gain from his work | |
| Under the sun where he labors | |
| What is so good for a man in life? | |
| During his days he' s just like a shadow | |
| Vanitas! Vanitas! Utters the oracle | |
| A chasing after the wind | |
| Meaningless! Meaningless searches for wisdom | |
| Everything is in vain like your hunting for shadows | |
| Lost my pride, fought in vain | |
| Had to find reasons to my pain Oh! | |
| Running blind against the faith | |
| Running blind again | |
| Church is falling like castles on the sand | |
| Ends the Holy War | |
| Jesus was a man | |
| With a heart, with a mind | |
| With a body, with a soul | |
| So divine as your own | |
| God has no mind, has no heart | |
| Has no body, has no soul and no resemblance of you. | |
| No! | |
| Like chasing the wind... |
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