Текст песни Пилигрим - 7.62 - ПЛЯСКА СМЕРТНЫХ www.piligrim-rock.ru

At the edge of cold immortal,
 Trampling death
 In places where the spirit out
 It turned out to fly.

 Knives and ice picks,
 Hot alcohol.
 Tom who sees goals
 Time does not revenge.

 Chorus:
The dance of death!
 The snow under the feet of the tocsin.
 The dance of death!
 Under the laughter and barking.
 The dance of death!
 Wrinkle wolf blood brother.
 The dance of death!
 "Unclean" did not hand over the latter.

 Through the icy winds
 There, where the edge
 Pass nomadic
 Abandoned flocks.

 Hours turning into minutes,
 Dashing death
 They rattle blizzard
 Will sing the requiem.

 Chorus:

 Bodies covered with snow,
 And verse alarm.
 Their dance is now taken up by
 Near the gate.

 At the edge of cold immortal,
 Trampling death
 In places where the spirit out
 It turned out to fly.