From ARIA 1998 "Generator of Evil"
Covered by the mist on a cold
winter morning,
wading on the snows that betray you.
Traces of your feet are awfully
prominent,
with severe frost to confront.
Harder is to run your way to
obscurity,
harder is to breathe the biting
air.
Harder is to curse your fate of
a fugitive
who has left the battle behind.
Running on to desert. No escape
to find outside the law.
Running on to be sought, just a
target for being hunted down.
Oh ! What will tomorrow hold
in this world of the boundless
hostility ?
Oh ! Who walks on the water that
boils
will be soon crucified by himself,
this is the fate,
yeah, that's the fate...
Land behind you is woke up by
the cannonade,
sky above your head is burning
hot.
You refused to shoot, you threw
down and away your arms,
sending all that nightmare to hell.
There goes the battle, either holy
or crimeful,
truth of war is washed away with
blood.
Where a piece of lead flies around
reigning blindly,
glorifying you once you fell.
Running on to desert. No escape
to find outside the law.
Running on to be sought, just a
target for being hunted down.
Oh ! What will tomorrow hold
in this world of the boundless
hostility ?
Oh ! Who walks on the water that
boils
will be soon crucified by himself,
this is the fate,
yeah, that's the fate...
Covered by the mist is a cold
winter morning,
from the realm of twilight it has
risen.
Broken is the trace, and mysterious
forest is
thicker as your minutes count down.
Shot dead by a bullet or killed
by despondency,
you fell down the snow and lie
unbreathing.
In the chains of ice here forever
your body is tied,
while your soul walks somewhere,
while your soul walks somewhere,
while your soul walks somewhere around
...