笨小笨The Queen Of The Black Sun歌词由Phoebus the Knight演唱，出自专辑《Ferrum Fero Ferro Feror (Explicit)》，下面是《The Queen Of The Black Sun》完整版歌词！
The Queen Of The Black Sun歌词完整版
Fading, traces of lost desires
Seeking a goal for those empty lives
From a wounded midnight sky
She descends without knowing why.
She’s a moonchild, born from a star’s bite
A supernova, living from a dying light
She’s an outcast the world is rejecting
Not knowing yet they will bend the knee
Before her.
But mine is already on the fertile land
To honor her for she will stand
As the Queen of the Black Sun.
A figure of love and hate
Fair to the weak, cruel to the sinner
She lightens the weight of my agony
So my hand will be her hand
And my blood will be her blood
As I grow in the blazing light of her mantle
That of the Queen Of The Black Sun.
Tender, as the child within her
Wounded by a senseless world
Glaring my eyes with her dichotomic stones
She ascends with me to the sun.
Embracing my soul with hers
She scatters a rain of glowing seeds
And as we dance into a lightning sky
I’m becoming one of her breed.
And she’s becoming one of mine
As the knight fights to live for she’s also
The princess of a pale moon.
A figure of spleen and grace.
Tender to me, kind to my anger
She lightens the weight of my agony
So my hand will be her hand
And my blood will be her blood
As I grow in the blazing night of her mantle
That of the princess of a pale moon.
Anger, Wrath, Pain, Lust,
As she makes hers all of the griefs
She transcends all of my beliefs
So I’ll make all of us bend the knee
Before her stance of secrecy
Of Majesty.
And we’ll shine in her glory
For the infinite love she bleeds
Tenderly on our wounded souls
So we all hail to the Queen of the Black Sun.
All hail! All hail!
All hail to the Queen of the Black Sun
All hail! All hail!
All hail to the Queen of the Black Sun
A figure of love and hate
Fair to the weak, cruel to the sinner
She lightens the weight of my agony
So my hand will be her hand
And my blood will be her blood
As I grow in the blazing light of her mantle,
A figure of spleen and grace
Tender to me, kind to my anger
She lightens the weight of my agony.
And my hand will be her hand,
And my blood will be her blood
So she shines upon our human tragedy
For the knight will become her king
For the king to become her prince.
