| Song | A port in any Storm |
| Artist | It Dies Today |
| Album | Sirens |
| 作曲 : Brooks, Hatalak | |
| Fearful and numb, I now can accept, | |
| Deceit and dependency are my preeminent assets. | |
| Defined, (defined), a word etched in skin. | |
| Sweet host, (sweet host), I'll feast within. | |
| Oh, how one taste will haunt the senses and my dreams, | |
| I fiend the touch of your flesh, A lust which brings us no end. | |
| Dissolution quenched on fleeting hands, on fleeting hands. | |
| Drowning myself in seas of compromise. | |
| Fair ladies and harlots submerge with this sinking ship. | |
| Black urge, (black urge), I swore to dismiss. | |
| Your minions, (minions), keeps on starving. | |
| Oh, how one taste will haunt the senses and my dreams, | |
| I fiend the touch of your flesh, A lust which brings us no end. | |
| Dissolution quenched on fleeting hands. | |
| One dip of impure blood has left a bitter taste, | |
| Pending a lust which brings us closer to false heaven. | |
| Oh, how one taste, (one taste), will haunt the senses and my dreams, | |
| I fiend the touch of your flesh, A lust which brings us no end. | |
| Dissolution quenched on fleeting hands, fleeting hands. | |
| Oh, how one taste, (one taste), will haunt the senses and my dreams, | |
| I fiend the touch of your flesh, A lust which brings us no end. | |
| Dissolution quenched on fleeting hands, on fleeting hands |
| zuò qǔ : Brooks, Hatalak | |
| Fearful and numb, I now can accept, | |
| Deceit and dependency are my preeminent assets. | |
| Defined, defined, a word etched in skin. | |
| Sweet host, sweet host, I' ll feast within. | |
| Oh, how one taste will haunt the senses and my dreams, | |
| I fiend the touch of your flesh, A lust which brings us no end. | |
| Dissolution quenched on fleeting hands, on fleeting hands. | |
| Drowning myself in seas of compromise. | |
| Fair ladies and harlots submerge with this sinking ship. | |
| Black urge, black urge, I swore to dismiss. | |
| Your minions, minions, keeps on starving. | |
| Oh, how one taste will haunt the senses and my dreams, | |
| I fiend the touch of your flesh, A lust which brings us no end. | |
| Dissolution quenched on fleeting hands. | |
| One dip of impure blood has left a bitter taste, | |
| Pending a lust which brings us closer to false heaven. | |
| Oh, how one taste, one taste, will haunt the senses and my dreams, | |
| I fiend the touch of your flesh, A lust which brings us no end. | |
| Dissolution quenched on fleeting hands, fleeting hands. | |
| Oh, how one taste, one taste, will haunt the senses and my dreams, | |
| I fiend the touch of your flesh, A lust which brings us no end. | |
| Dissolution quenched on fleeting hands, on fleeting hands |