| Song | The Setting Sun |
| Artist | Feels Like Home |
| Album | Duality |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Alex Lapointe/Frédéric Ouellet/Michael Cyr-Landry/Steven Cloutier | |
| 作曲 : Alex Lapointe/Frédéric Ouellet/Michael Cyr-Landry/Steven Cloutier | |
| Waters rise, curtains close, the end is near. | |
| Watch it all disappear. | |
| Weary heads, blackened eyes, blurry lines. | |
| The air is thick with the fear that it all disappears. | |
| Watch it all disappear. | |
| The air is thick with the fear that the end is near. | |
| Well-intended but it’s only skin deep. | |
| We’ve made our filthy beds stained with regret and filled with dread. | |
| I’m hearing voices inside my head. | |
| When will this end? | |
| When will this end? | |
| What’s the purpose of fighting what we can’t defeat? | |
| When every move we make brings us to our knees. | |
| Wasted it all. | |
| Separated from what we understand. | |
| There is blood on our hands, we only wanted to make amends. | |
| It’s too late to take it all back now. | |
| Say goodbye, say goodbye to this beautiful world because it’s easier to give up than to give a shit. | |
| Like a parade of poets marching to their graves, so it goes. | |
| Is there anyone out there? | |
| Give me something to save, there’s no hope. | |
| The sun is setting on the age of man, we grow cold. | |
| The deepest circle of Hell has a special place for our ghosts. | |
| Like a parade of poets marching to their graves. | |
| Is there anyone out there? | |
| Give me something to save. | |
| The sun is setting on the age of man. | |
| There’s no hope. | |
| The sun is setting on the age of man. | |
| There’s no hope. | |
| Breaking the fall. | |
| Forever sinking into the sand. | |
| There is blood on our hands, it’s too late to walk away. | |
| It’s too late to take it all back. | |
| Is it really too late to take it all back now? | |
| It’s time for a change before it all goes black. |
| zuo ci : Alex Lapointe Fre de ric Ouellet Michael CyrLandry Steven Cloutier | |
| zuo qu : Alex Lapointe Fre de ric Ouellet Michael CyrLandry Steven Cloutier | |
| Waters rise, curtains close, the end is near. | |
| Watch it all disappear. | |
| Weary heads, blackened eyes, blurry lines. | |
| The air is thick with the fear that it all disappears. | |
| Watch it all disappear. | |
| The air is thick with the fear that the end is near. | |
| Wellintended but it' s only skin deep. | |
| We' ve made our filthy beds stained with regret and filled with dread. | |
| I' m hearing voices inside my head. | |
| When will this end? | |
| When will this end? | |
| What' s the purpose of fighting what we can' t defeat? | |
| When every move we make brings us to our knees. | |
| Wasted it all. | |
| Separated from what we understand. | |
| There is blood on our hands, we only wanted to make amends. | |
| It' s too late to take it all back now. | |
| Say goodbye, say goodbye to this beautiful world because it' s easier to give up than to give a shit. | |
| Like a parade of poets marching to their graves, so it goes. | |
| Is there anyone out there? | |
| Give me something to save, there' s no hope. | |
| The sun is setting on the age of man, we grow cold. | |
| The deepest circle of Hell has a special place for our ghosts. | |
| Like a parade of poets marching to their graves. | |
| Is there anyone out there? | |
| Give me something to save. | |
| The sun is setting on the age of man. | |
| There' s no hope. | |
| The sun is setting on the age of man. | |
| There' s no hope. | |
| Breaking the fall. | |
| Forever sinking into the sand. | |
| There is blood on our hands, it' s too late to walk away. | |
| It' s too late to take it all back. | |
| Is it really too late to take it all back now? | |
| It' s time for a change before it all goes black. |
| zuò cí : Alex Lapointe Fré dé ric Ouellet Michael CyrLandry Steven Cloutier | |
| zuò qǔ : Alex Lapointe Fré dé ric Ouellet Michael CyrLandry Steven Cloutier | |
| Waters rise, curtains close, the end is near. | |
| Watch it all disappear. | |
| Weary heads, blackened eyes, blurry lines. | |
| The air is thick with the fear that it all disappears. | |
| Watch it all disappear. | |
| The air is thick with the fear that the end is near. | |
| Wellintended but it' s only skin deep. | |
| We' ve made our filthy beds stained with regret and filled with dread. | |
| I' m hearing voices inside my head. | |
| When will this end? | |
| When will this end? | |
| What' s the purpose of fighting what we can' t defeat? | |
| When every move we make brings us to our knees. | |
| Wasted it all. | |
| Separated from what we understand. | |
| There is blood on our hands, we only wanted to make amends. | |
| It' s too late to take it all back now. | |
| Say goodbye, say goodbye to this beautiful world because it' s easier to give up than to give a shit. | |
| Like a parade of poets marching to their graves, so it goes. | |
| Is there anyone out there? | |
| Give me something to save, there' s no hope. | |
| The sun is setting on the age of man, we grow cold. | |
| The deepest circle of Hell has a special place for our ghosts. | |
| Like a parade of poets marching to their graves. | |
| Is there anyone out there? | |
| Give me something to save. | |
| The sun is setting on the age of man. | |
| There' s no hope. | |
| The sun is setting on the age of man. | |
| There' s no hope. | |
| Breaking the fall. | |
| Forever sinking into the sand. | |
| There is blood on our hands, it' s too late to walk away. | |
| It' s too late to take it all back. | |
| Is it really too late to take it all back now? | |
| It' s time for a change before it all goes black. |