الكلمات الأصلية
ENالترجمة غير متاحة بعد. نعرض الكلمات الأصلية.
Splintered masts rise from the angry sea
Rotten towers above a watery hell
Bloated corpses clothed in tattered
Sails bob like apples
A distant song floats on the breeze
How sweet the melody that calls
That beckons you closer and closer still
That voice fills your head
Consumes your will
Cliffs and jagged rocks await yet still you steer
Into that floating mausoleum
Chasing the siren’s song
The hull will crack, too late to save your life
Your blood will join the tempest soon
Laughter fills the air, water fills your lungs
She whispers, “welcome home”
