| Song | Back Into The Shadows |
| Artist | Agathodaimon |
| Album | Higher Art of Rebellion |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Agathodaimon, Dracul | |
| In the night of my final sacrifice | |
| I sent my soul | |
| Into the vast and fathomless unknown to find a word | |
| A word, that indicates the beyond. | |
| It came back later and spoke: "I am myself heaven and hell!" | |
| Sculptured in time as another chapter of life | |
| Sharp are the thorns of the roses, which lay dank upon me | |
| For too long | |
| I knew that | |
| I had to arrive | |
| Yet destination isn't as linear as humanity | |
| Touch the feeling - touch the soul | |
| Touch the morning dew and see the glamour | |
| In my stark eyes reflecting | |
| The icon of a setting in a serene summer | |
| So many flowers give away to mystery and loneliness | |
| Their subtle perfume and their indifference | |
| So much jewelry's forgotten in the soil, in darkness | |
| But who dares to tread the silent meadows | |
| That lie beyond the mirror of one's self? | |
| Who dares to reach the phantoms of one's heart? | |
| To behold the murderer of life and art? | |
| And what is death? | |
| What gives birth? | |
| What sells good or has no worth, | |
| When everything you feel is cold? | |
| Why am I? | |
| Who's this hand? | |
| Whose decisions | |
| I can't comprehend... | |
| But isn't history foretold? | |
| There's a tide... in the affairs of men | |
| Which, taken of it's flood, leads on to fortune | |
| But all the voyage of their life | |
| Is bound in shallows and miseries... | |
| But if you desire to see the light... | |
| As it truly is, clear and bright | |
| You must move - back into the shadows |
| zuo qu : Agathodaimon, Dracul | |
| In the night of my final sacrifice | |
| I sent my soul | |
| Into the vast and fathomless unknown to find a word | |
| A word, that indicates the beyond. | |
| It came back later and spoke: " I am myself heaven and hell!" | |
| Sculptured in time as another chapter of life | |
| Sharp are the thorns of the roses, which lay dank upon me | |
| For too long | |
| I knew that | |
| I had to arrive | |
| Yet destination isn' t as linear as humanity | |
| Touch the feeling touch the soul | |
| Touch the morning dew and see the glamour | |
| In my stark eyes reflecting | |
| The icon of a setting in a serene summer | |
| So many flowers give away to mystery and loneliness | |
| Their subtle perfume and their indifference | |
| So much jewelry' s forgotten in the soil, in darkness | |
| But who dares to tread the silent meadows | |
| That lie beyond the mirror of one' s self? | |
| Who dares to reach the phantoms of one' s heart? | |
| To behold the murderer of life and art? | |
| And what is death? | |
| What gives birth? | |
| What sells good or has no worth, | |
| When everything you feel is cold? | |
| Why am I? | |
| Who' s this hand? | |
| Whose decisions | |
| I can' t comprehend... | |
| But isn' t history foretold? | |
| There' s a tide... in the affairs of men | |
| Which, taken of it' s flood, leads on to fortune | |
| But all the voyage of their life | |
| Is bound in shallows and miseries... | |
| But if you desire to see the light... | |
| As it truly is, clear and bright | |
| You must move back into the shadows |
| zuò qǔ : Agathodaimon, Dracul | |
| In the night of my final sacrifice | |
| I sent my soul | |
| Into the vast and fathomless unknown to find a word | |
| A word, that indicates the beyond. | |
| It came back later and spoke: " I am myself heaven and hell!" | |
| Sculptured in time as another chapter of life | |
| Sharp are the thorns of the roses, which lay dank upon me | |
| For too long | |
| I knew that | |
| I had to arrive | |
| Yet destination isn' t as linear as humanity | |
| Touch the feeling touch the soul | |
| Touch the morning dew and see the glamour | |
| In my stark eyes reflecting | |
| The icon of a setting in a serene summer | |
| So many flowers give away to mystery and loneliness | |
| Their subtle perfume and their indifference | |
| So much jewelry' s forgotten in the soil, in darkness | |
| But who dares to tread the silent meadows | |
| That lie beyond the mirror of one' s self? | |
| Who dares to reach the phantoms of one' s heart? | |
| To behold the murderer of life and art? | |
| And what is death? | |
| What gives birth? | |
| What sells good or has no worth, | |
| When everything you feel is cold? | |
| Why am I? | |
| Who' s this hand? | |
| Whose decisions | |
| I can' t comprehend... | |
| But isn' t history foretold? | |
| There' s a tide... in the affairs of men | |
| Which, taken of it' s flood, leads on to fortune | |
| But all the voyage of their life | |
| Is bound in shallows and miseries... | |
| But if you desire to see the light... | |
| As it truly is, clear and bright | |
| You must move back into the shadows |