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  • 曲谱信息
  • 歌词
  • 标题:Opplomak

    艺人:Kronos

    专辑:Colossal Titan Strife

    节拍: Moderate ♩ = 138

    歌曲: Opplomak
    歌词:
    To suffer myself, to be whipped by rods
    burned with fire, or killed with steel...
    If I disobey...

    In times of plague, famine and death
    a fantastic clamour raises from the coliseum
    the circus maximus under an overwhelming sun
    welcome the silver-armoured barbarian horde

    Overtrained gladiatros thrown in the arena
    alongst chained lions and phaetonic aurigas
    acclaimed by the crowd, idolized as mightiest gods
    they brandish their weapons, transcending the greedy punters

    By times of triumph, decadence and impericide
    the chariots mark forever the sandring with their wheels
    shame to the last one, honour and pride for the son chosen
    while gladiators walk now from shadows to their fate

    Supreme machines whoe spectacle is primordal
    torture and "To the death" have never existed
    satisfied or repaid, are unknown words
    neither lowered, nor raised thumbs...

    "Sold then bought as interestless things
    my still in the art of fighting
    my strength in the will of survival
    child, I soon learn the Dictum Primeval..."

    Neither whiplashes or insults prevent me
    to be entangled in the revenge spiral
    one day, the gathering'll scand my grade
    Quia nominor Opplomakus

    Ave Imperator, Morituri te salutant
    The opplon strongly hold, we brave our combat
    Helios smashes us with solar might
    But we must play this ever-cheated game

    Moved as vulgar pawns on a circular sand chessboard
    we are human bishops handled by emperor's attractions
    The fantastic clamour raises again on the arena
    in times of plague, famine and death

    Slave...Slave then deity
    Grandiose...Grandiose destiny
    Dictum...Dictum Primeval
    Law...Law of survival

    By times of triumph, decadence and impericide
    the chariots mark forever the sand ring with their wheels
    shame to the last one, honour and for the son chosen
    while gladiators walk now from shadows to their fate

    Supreme machines whose spectacle is primordial
    torture and "To the death" have never existed
    satisfied or repaid, are unknown words
    neither lowered, nor raised thumbs...

    "Sold then bought as interestless things
    my still in the art of fighting
    my strength in the will of survival
    child, I soon learn the Dictum Primeval..."
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