标题:Hybrid Stigmata-The Apostasy
副标题:Great song
艺人:Dimmu Borgir
专辑:Puritanical Euphoric Misanthropia
作词:Mustis, Shgrath, Silenoz
作曲:joelsmades6@yahoo.com
制谱人:Hybrid Stigmata-The Apostasy
指示:Play Good haha
1.The main opening Riff is real heavy(Forte Fotisimmo) 2.The tempo and time signature changes throughout 3.The Synth is played in open A 4.Alot of the Riffs are (Forte Fotisimmo) it is kinda dimmu borgir's trademark imperialistic sound if you get what I mean by that. 5.For parts that are really heavy in synth play guitar Lighter like (Mezzo Forte) 6. There are many tempos in the this song like 100,120,140,150,160 im sure thats all of them. 7.The Drums Are not that good but it gets the basic impression of the drumming in this song 8.Email me your comments...
节拍: ♩ = 120
The apparition of two faces in disgust
Invisible but yet so clear
Reflections seen by a fugitive
Trying to escape the looking glass
Blood runs from open wounds of false flesh
The one in front of the mirror exceeds the image
Eager to leave further but chained still
To crumble into such nothingness
A despairing fate, for your lies
To pretend is the lunatics legacy
Privileged to bolt the nails of heresy
Born lifeless into a world of coma
As the chronic sufferer trapped in paradise lost
Missing insinuations of what life was meant to be
Angels and demons, a march man's bewildering hosts
The charlatans and deceivers walk the line in prejudice
The narrow slits the veins in search for the crown
Profound impatience makes the blind struggle in stupidity
The paradox of the daily prayer, diffidence is Confiteor
Phenomena of ironies, cast the litany aside
How intelligible, blessed be the forgetful
Angels and demons, a march man's bewildering hosts
Holding the banner high, unrestrained
Slowly abandoning the surface in contempt
Still in costumes to please the ways of living
Witnessing the details of defilement, intoxicating
Make sure to be pleased with the ways of your death
For in days of reckoning and when the twilight torn is ticking
Elysium is halfway and as an answer to the plea
You're destined to yield fragments of Hell in return
The charlatans and deceivers walk the line in prejudice
The narrow slits the veins in search for the crown
Profound impatience makes the blind struggle in stupidity
The paradox of the daily prayer, diffidence is Confiteor
Angels and demons, a march man's bewildering hosts
Leave unnoticed with the perfect conscience
With the strength of the spiritual eye
Spirits of the token unchained and free
Recover from the philanthropic macabre frenzy
The pale dove grins, black at heart ready to flee
Demon to some, angel to others