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Prime Season歌词
  • 歌手:S.E.N.S(神思者)
    歌词出处:http://www.5nd.com

    Iron Maiden - 2 Minutes To Midnight
    Kill for gain or shoot to maim
    But we don't need a reason
    The Golden Goose is on the loose
    And never out of Season.
    Some blackened pride still burns inside
    This shell of bloody treason
    Here's my gun for a barrel of fun
    For the love of living death
    The killer's breed or the Deamon's seed,
    The glamour, the fortune, the pain,
    Go to war again, blood is freedom's stain,
    But don't you pray for my soul anymore.
    2 minutes to midnight,
    The hands that threaten doom.
    2 minutes to midnight,
    To kill the unborn in the womb.
    The blind men shout let the creatures out
    We'll show the unbelievers,
    The Napalm screams of human flames
    Of a prime time Belsen feast...YEAH!
    As the reasons for the carnage cut their meat
    and lick the gravy,
    We oil the jaws of the war machine
    and feed it with our babies.
    The killer's breed or the Deamon's seed,
    The glamour, the fortune, the pain,
    Go to war again, blood is freedom's stain,
    But don't you pray for my soul anymore.
    2 minutes to midnight,
    The hands that threaten doom.
    2 minutes to midnight,
    To kill the unborn in the womb.

    The body bags and little rags of children torn in two,
    And the jellied brains of those who remain
    to put the finger right on you.
    As the Madmen play on words and make us all
    dance to their song,
    To the tune of starving millions
    to make a better kind of gun.
    The killer's breed or the Deamon's seed,
    The glamour, the fortune, the pain,
    Go to war again, blood is freedom's stain,
    But don't you pray for my soul anymore.
    2 minutes to midnight,
    The hands that threaten doom.
    2 minutes to midnight,
    To kill the unborn in the womb.
    Midnight
    Midnight...all night...
    Midnight
    Midnight...all night...
    Midnight...all night...

  • Iron Maiden - 2 Minutes To Midnight
    Kill for gain or shoot to maim
    But we don't need a reason
    The Golden Goose is on the loose
    And never out of Season.
    Some blackened pride still burns inside
    This shell of bloody treason
    Here's my gun for a barrel of fun
    For the love of living death
    The killer's breed or the Deamon's seed,
    The glamour, the fortune, the pain,
    Go to war again, blood is freedom's stain,
    But don't you pray for my soul anymore.
    2 minutes to midnight,
    The hands that threaten doom.
    2 minutes to midnight,
    To kill the unborn in the womb.
    The blind men shout let the creatures out
    We'll show the unbelievers,
    The Napalm screams of human flames
    Of a prime time Belsen feast...YEAH!
    As the reasons for the carnage cut their meat
    and lick the gravy,
    We oil the jaws of the war machine
    and feed it with our babies.
    The killer's breed or the Deamon's seed,
    The glamour, the fortune, the pain,
    Go to war again, blood is freedom's stain,
    But don't you pray for my soul anymore.
    2 minutes to midnight,
    The hands that threaten doom.
    2 minutes to midnight,
    To kill the unborn in the womb.

    The body bags and little rags of children torn in two,
    And the jellied brains of those who remain
    to put the finger right on you.
    As the Madmen play on words and make us all
    dance to their song,
    To the tune of starving millions
    to make a better kind of gun.
    The killer's breed or the Deamon's seed,
    The glamour, the fortune, the pain,
    Go to war again, blood is freedom's stain,
    But don't you pray for my soul anymore.
    2 minutes to midnight,
    The hands that threaten doom.
    2 minutes to midnight,
    To kill the unborn in the womb.
    Midnight
    Midnight...all night...
    Midnight
    Midnight...all night...
    Midnight...all night...

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