ترجمة: حارس. هاجس.
ترجمة: حارس. ثلاثين يوما.
ترجمة: فرانكلين ، دانيال. الحارس وAlkimista.
Suffa We found this club on a side street, but I was kind of iffy, We could hear some fly beats, but from outside it looked shifty, I said this to pressure
I'm not a Buddha boy, I'm not a Muslim man I'm not a Christian or a Jew I'm not a Mormon freak, I'm not a Catholic geek And I'm nothing at all like you
Along deserted avenues Steam begins to rise The figures primed and ready Prepared for quick surprise He's watching for a sign His life is on the line
In Hundred Days they Sailed Towards Grandious Battles far Away With Swords of Coldest Black Steel Bitter at Heart and with Eager to Kill Awaiting Blackheim
Thunder and Fire Raping the Sky Lustfilled Desire The Weak Ones must Die Warriors of Death shall Rise Tonight Coming to Kill the Morninglight Nowhere
Gateways to an abysmal abhorrent transcendents Of blazing spirits empyreal inferno Infinite shadows of havoc impending black perpetuation Consume the
We've been here through all the circles And lived with the godless tyranny One day all of you shall be perfect And understand this is to be He has determined
Surveillance electronique, Detection gouvernementale Paranoia, peur et panique Espionnage secret illegal Tu crois avoir une vie privee, Il est temps de
When the earth lost it's light No more sun in the sky I began to see fear Even in the very bravest seamen's eyes A fresh water's sailors fear Of deliverance
The splinted gate corrodes an breaks As of thousand pieces It fades away, then becomes alive Trapped within the fire Asphyxiate in data It turns around
Gazing at the landscape, after all you'll find my fellows there, on the tranquil traces of my white, clear land. No need to fear opening the gates to
[from A Tribute to Judas Priest, Legends of Metal, Vol. 2] Along deserted avenues Steam begins to rise The figures primed and ready Prepared for quick
"Mylord, forgive me, for I have sinned. has tempted me yet again, until I found myself judging all the sinners around me. I know I should feel pity, but
(M. Nascimento - Fernando Brant, 1980) Morte, vela, sentinela sou Do corpo desse meu irmao que ja se vai Revejo nessa hora tudo que ocorreu Memoria nao
Now I'm standing on my own again What a feeling to let go of something blood from the vein Keeps me captive here and ashamed I'm on the wire, losing sight
