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• Artiste: This Ending
• Titre: Army Of The Dying Sun
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In splendour we progress This whimsical world All we consume And let time progress Blessed are the blind for they see no evil Every moment a chance, a chance to forget Like animals we flee from the flames Ignorance conceals the blood on our hands There is no goal Abstract faith our shelter Spiritual self-medication And the faithless are lost Blessed are the blind for they see no evil Every moment a chance, a chance to forget Like animals we flee from the flames Ignorance conceals the blood on our hands Conducting our own end With sublime paradox We are the army Of the dying sun Blood loss of an entire people We draw the lies of this self-imposed evil There is no hope, our spirit is broken Choked out by our own hand Shed no tears for this our demise We are the makers of this ending Architects of downfall, diplomats of suicide We are the army of the dying sun [Solo: L. Pignon]