The Funerary Dirge of a Violonist Lyrics
| Song | The Funerary Dirge of a Violonist |
| Artist | Carach Angren |
| Album | Where The Corpses Sink Forever |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| [00:18.410] | Listen! |
| [00:19.750] | Don't you hear |
| [00:21.590] | These mad symphonies of grievance and fear? |
| [00:27.290] | Melancholy and despair |
| [00:30.370] | Can be sensed when we draw near. |
| [00:33.530] | Some hear a violin sound |
| [00:34.900] | Others hear a man moaning in tears. |
| [00:52.070] | These fields are haunted by nature's most sombre melodies. |
| [00:58.910] | Suicidal white noise absorbing the essence |
| [01:02.300] | From light, mirth and vitality. |
| [01:07.660] | These grounds haunted by |
| [01:09.940] | Reflections from World War II… |
| [01:20.110] | Arise! |
| [01:21.240] | In 1941,'42 The identity of warfare on the East Front is lugubrious. |
| [01:29.000] | There's one soldier incapable of committing sin. |
| [01:33.890] | Kept alive by his comrades thanks to his heavenly gift, |
| [01:38.030] | With a violin |
| [01:56.080] | His brilliant music |
| [02:00.600] | So beautiful and pure... |
| [02:04.290] | Shining warmth upon every soldier. |
| [02:08.100] | It helps them to endure. |
| [02:30.600] | Breath-taking melodies |
| [02:32.870] | Consuming all hate sorrow and fear. |
| [02:37.030] | These magnificent tunes are like silk for their ears. |
| [02:42.560] | And for a moment their pain disappears. |
| [03:16.800] | But this moment will not last |
| [03:18.670] | When they are baffled by another blast. |
| [03:20.580] | The enemy is near. |
| [03:21.970] | Rain of bullets |
| [03:23.040] | Killing soldiers there and here. |
| [03:24.970] | And so the instrument of peace is being silenced by the one of war. |
| [04:00.170] | It plays the music of the dead music made of lead. |
| [04:38.280] | I've had enough of this sickening war and it's murderous puppets!“ |
| [04:45.960] | They don't understand |
| [04:48.130] | The language of music cannot be spoken in death. |
| [04:53.520] | I never took a life! |
| [04:55.710] | Maybe now is the time to take mine. |
| [04:58.660] | In the name of music |
| [05:00.650] | Shall I cut my wrists or hang myself high by a violin string? |
| [05:06.400] | A symphonic suicide is what I shall bring!" |
| [05:16.010] | The enemy lies on the other side of the field. |
| [05:21.340] | He decides to walk straight into the fire fight, |
| [05:24.740] | Playing this dreamlike masterpiece. |
| [05:26.960] | Every soldier stops, |
| [05:29.290] | Holds his breath. |
| [05:30.830] | Not a single shot is being heard |
| [05:32.890] | During an intro for his own death. |
| [05:39.100] | For his own death |
| [06:07.110] | And when the violin bow is being lowered at the end |
| [06:11.140] | Both sides simultaneously open fire. |
| [06:17.590] | There's the corpse of the violinist lying in mud and barbed wire. |
| [06:35.190] | These fields are haunted by the funerary dirge of a violinist. |
| [06:46.540] | The funerary dirge of a violinist |
| [06:54.360] | Can't you hear his call of death? |
| [06:57.650] | Listen! |
| [06:59.220] | Don't you hear |
| [07:01.740] | These mad symphonies |
| [07:04.330] | Of grievance and fear? |
| [07:07.370] | Melancholy and despair |
| [07:10.250] | Can be sensed when we draw near. |
| [07:12.990] | Some hear a violin sound... |
| [07:15.010] | Other shear a man moaning in tears. |
| [00:18.410] | Listen! |
| [00:19.750] | Don' t you hear |
| [00:21.590] | These mad symphonies of grievance and fear? |
| [00:27.290] | Melancholy and despair |
| [00:30.370] | Can be sensed when we draw near. |
| [00:33.530] | Some hear a violin sound |
| [00:34.900] | Others hear a man moaning in tears. |
| [00:52.070] | These fields are haunted by nature' s most sombre melodies. |
| [00:58.910] | Suicidal white noise absorbing the essence |
| [01:02.300] | From light, mirth and vitality. |
| [01:07.660] | These grounds haunted by |
| [01:09.940] | Reflections from World War II |
| [01:20.110] | Arise! |
| [01:21.240] | In 1941,' 42 The identity of warfare on the East Front is lugubrious. |
| [01:29.000] | There' s one soldier incapable of committing sin. |
| [01:33.890] | Kept alive by his comrades thanks to his heavenly gift, |
| [01:38.030] | With a violin |
| [01:56.080] | His brilliant music |
| [02:00.600] | So beautiful and pure... |
| [02:04.290] | Shining warmth upon every soldier. |
| [02:08.100] | It helps them to endure. |
| [02:30.600] | Breathtaking melodies |
| [02:32.870] | Consuming all hate sorrow and fear. |
| [02:37.030] | These magnificent tunes are like silk for their ears. |
| [02:42.560] | And for a moment their pain disappears. |
| [03:16.800] | But this moment will not last |
| [03:18.670] | When they are baffled by another blast. |
| [03:20.580] | The enemy is near. |
| [03:21.970] | Rain of bullets |
| [03:23.040] | Killing soldiers there and here. |
| [03:24.970] | And so the instrument of peace is being silenced by the one of war. |
| [04:00.170] | It plays the music of the dead music made of lead. |
| [04:38.280] | I' ve had enough of this sickening war and it' s murderous puppets!" |
| [04:45.960] | They don' t understand |
| [04:48.130] | The language of music cannot be spoken in death. |
| [04:53.520] | I never took a life! |
| [04:55.710] | Maybe now is the time to take mine. |
| [04:58.660] | In the name of music |
| [05:00.650] | Shall I cut my wrists or hang myself high by a violin string? |
| [05:06.400] | A symphonic suicide is what I shall bring!" |
| [05:16.010] | The enemy lies on the other side of the field. |
| [05:21.340] | He decides to walk straight into the fire fight, |
| [05:24.740] | Playing this dreamlike masterpiece. |
| [05:26.960] | Every soldier stops, |
| [05:29.290] | Holds his breath. |
| [05:30.830] | Not a single shot is being heard |
| [05:32.890] | During an intro for his own death. |
| [05:39.100] | For his own death |
| [06:07.110] | And when the violin bow is being lowered at the end |
| [06:11.140] | Both sides simultaneously open fire. |
| [06:17.590] | There' s the corpse of the violinist lying in mud and barbed wire. |
| [06:35.190] | These fields are haunted by the funerary dirge of a violinist. |
| [06:46.540] | The funerary dirge of a violinist |
| [06:54.360] | Can' t you hear his call of death? |
| [06:57.650] | Listen! |
| [06:59.220] | Don' t you hear |
| [07:01.740] | These mad symphonies |
| [07:04.330] | Of grievance and fear? |
| [07:07.370] | Melancholy and despair |
| [07:10.250] | Can be sensed when we draw near. |
| [07:12.990] | Some hear a violin sound... |
| [07:15.010] | Other shear a man moaning in tears. |
| [00:18.410] | Listen! |
| [00:19.750] | Don' t you hear |
| [00:21.590] | These mad symphonies of grievance and fear? |
| [00:27.290] | Melancholy and despair |
| [00:30.370] | Can be sensed when we draw near. |
| [00:33.530] | Some hear a violin sound |
| [00:34.900] | Others hear a man moaning in tears. |
| [00:52.070] | These fields are haunted by nature' s most sombre melodies. |
| [00:58.910] | Suicidal white noise absorbing the essence |
| [01:02.300] | From light, mirth and vitality. |
| [01:07.660] | These grounds haunted by |
| [01:09.940] | Reflections from World War II |
| [01:20.110] | Arise! |
| [01:21.240] | In 1941,' 42 The identity of warfare on the East Front is lugubrious. |
| [01:29.000] | There' s one soldier incapable of committing sin. |
| [01:33.890] | Kept alive by his comrades thanks to his heavenly gift, |
| [01:38.030] | With a violin |
| [01:56.080] | His brilliant music |
| [02:00.600] | So beautiful and pure... |
| [02:04.290] | Shining warmth upon every soldier. |
| [02:08.100] | It helps them to endure. |
| [02:30.600] | Breathtaking melodies |
| [02:32.870] | Consuming all hate sorrow and fear. |
| [02:37.030] | These magnificent tunes are like silk for their ears. |
| [02:42.560] | And for a moment their pain disappears. |
| [03:16.800] | But this moment will not last |
| [03:18.670] | When they are baffled by another blast. |
| [03:20.580] | The enemy is near. |
| [03:21.970] | Rain of bullets |
| [03:23.040] | Killing soldiers there and here. |
| [03:24.970] | And so the instrument of peace is being silenced by the one of war. |
| [04:00.170] | It plays the music of the dead music made of lead. |
| [04:38.280] | I' ve had enough of this sickening war and it' s murderous puppets!" |
| [04:45.960] | They don' t understand |
| [04:48.130] | The language of music cannot be spoken in death. |
| [04:53.520] | I never took a life! |
| [04:55.710] | Maybe now is the time to take mine. |
| [04:58.660] | In the name of music |
| [05:00.650] | Shall I cut my wrists or hang myself high by a violin string? |
| [05:06.400] | A symphonic suicide is what I shall bring!" |
| [05:16.010] | The enemy lies on the other side of the field. |
| [05:21.340] | He decides to walk straight into the fire fight, |
| [05:24.740] | Playing this dreamlike masterpiece. |
| [05:26.960] | Every soldier stops, |
| [05:29.290] | Holds his breath. |
| [05:30.830] | Not a single shot is being heard |
| [05:32.890] | During an intro for his own death. |
| [05:39.100] | For his own death |
| [06:07.110] | And when the violin bow is being lowered at the end |
| [06:11.140] | Both sides simultaneously open fire. |
| [06:17.590] | There' s the corpse of the violinist lying in mud and barbed wire. |
| [06:35.190] | These fields are haunted by the funerary dirge of a violinist. |
| [06:46.540] | The funerary dirge of a violinist |
| [06:54.360] | Can' t you hear his call of death? |
| [06:57.650] | Listen! |
| [06:59.220] | Don' t you hear |
| [07:01.740] | These mad symphonies |
| [07:04.330] | Of grievance and fear? |
| [07:07.370] | Melancholy and despair |
| [07:10.250] | Can be sensed when we draw near. |
| [07:12.990] | Some hear a violin sound... |
| [07:15.010] | Other shear a man moaning in tears. |
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