To Bear The Brunt Of Many Blades Lyrics
| Song | To Bear The Brunt Of Many Blades |
| Artist | Shai Hulud |
| Album | Misanthropy Pure |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Fletcher, Fox, Gormley ... | |
| Nothing that breathes is above betrayal | |
| Nothing that breathes is divine | |
| Out from the shadows well wisher | |
| The gleam of your blade gives you away | |
| Drawn from me | |
| My smiling assassin | |
| Meet the blood that moved you | |
| The blood of encouragement | |
| Spilling as common water | |
| They will serve you | |
| Long live the king | |
| Soak up to your arms in his blood | |
| Long live the king | |
| They will serve you well | |
| And you loyal friend | |
| Leave an ice pick in my neck as it were mine to keep | |
| How terribly cold | |
| I breathe and count my shallow breaths | |
| Add another edge | |
| Be sure to twist the blade | |
| I come one | |
| Come all to this | |
| A celebration of treachery and twisted flesh | |
| Fall in | |
| Stain your steel in festive red | |
| Here were the sheep are butchers | |
| A fresh patch of skin to pierce | |
| One cannot resist | |
| Unsteady steps | |
| Each waning | |
| Determined for purchase | |
| I am He who falters | |
| Stricken with one thousand blades | |
| With unsteady steps I find my balance in deception | |
| Step by burning step | |
| Warm in the presence of malice | |
| Barefoot among a skulk of men | |
| Eyes ahead and taller still | |
| I never look back | |
| No | |
| I knew not your names | |
| I knew not your numbers | |
| I knew you all too well | |
| Two blades for every inc of flesh | |
| Ensanguined | |
| This is that which did not kill me | |
| There's always room for one more blade | |
| Not such a sight for sore eyes | |
| The harrowed form of living will | |
| Bent and black | |
| And so terribly cold | |
| There's always strength for one last breath |
| zuo qu : Fletcher, Fox, Gormley ... | |
| Nothing that breathes is above betrayal | |
| Nothing that breathes is divine | |
| Out from the shadows well wisher | |
| The gleam of your blade gives you away | |
| Drawn from me | |
| My smiling assassin | |
| Meet the blood that moved you | |
| The blood of encouragement | |
| Spilling as common water | |
| They will serve you | |
| Long live the king | |
| Soak up to your arms in his blood | |
| Long live the king | |
| They will serve you well | |
| And you loyal friend | |
| Leave an ice pick in my neck as it were mine to keep | |
| How terribly cold | |
| I breathe and count my shallow breaths | |
| Add another edge | |
| Be sure to twist the blade | |
| I come one | |
| Come all to this | |
| A celebration of treachery and twisted flesh | |
| Fall in | |
| Stain your steel in festive red | |
| Here were the sheep are butchers | |
| A fresh patch of skin to pierce | |
| One cannot resist | |
| Unsteady steps | |
| Each waning | |
| Determined for purchase | |
| I am He who falters | |
| Stricken with one thousand blades | |
| With unsteady steps I find my balance in deception | |
| Step by burning step | |
| Warm in the presence of malice | |
| Barefoot among a skulk of men | |
| Eyes ahead and taller still | |
| I never look back | |
| No | |
| I knew not your names | |
| I knew not your numbers | |
| I knew you all too well | |
| Two blades for every inc of flesh | |
| Ensanguined | |
| This is that which did not kill me | |
| There' s always room for one more blade | |
| Not such a sight for sore eyes | |
| The harrowed form of living will | |
| Bent and black | |
| And so terribly cold | |
| There' s always strength for one last breath |
| zuò qǔ : Fletcher, Fox, Gormley ... | |
| Nothing that breathes is above betrayal | |
| Nothing that breathes is divine | |
| Out from the shadows well wisher | |
| The gleam of your blade gives you away | |
| Drawn from me | |
| My smiling assassin | |
| Meet the blood that moved you | |
| The blood of encouragement | |
| Spilling as common water | |
| They will serve you | |
| Long live the king | |
| Soak up to your arms in his blood | |
| Long live the king | |
| They will serve you well | |
| And you loyal friend | |
| Leave an ice pick in my neck as it were mine to keep | |
| How terribly cold | |
| I breathe and count my shallow breaths | |
| Add another edge | |
| Be sure to twist the blade | |
| I come one | |
| Come all to this | |
| A celebration of treachery and twisted flesh | |
| Fall in | |
| Stain your steel in festive red | |
| Here were the sheep are butchers | |
| A fresh patch of skin to pierce | |
| One cannot resist | |
| Unsteady steps | |
| Each waning | |
| Determined for purchase | |
| I am He who falters | |
| Stricken with one thousand blades | |
| With unsteady steps I find my balance in deception | |
| Step by burning step | |
| Warm in the presence of malice | |
| Barefoot among a skulk of men | |
| Eyes ahead and taller still | |
| I never look back | |
| No | |
| I knew not your names | |
| I knew not your numbers | |
| I knew you all too well | |
| Two blades for every inc of flesh | |
| Ensanguined | |
| This is that which did not kill me | |
| There' s always room for one more blade | |
| Not such a sight for sore eyes | |
| The harrowed form of living will | |
| Bent and black | |
| And so terribly cold | |
| There' s always strength for one last breath |
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