[00:00.000] 作词 : Pixelia
[00:00.478] 作曲 : Pixelia
[00:00.957] [Intro]
[00:00.957] In the mist of the highlands, where the old tales reside,
[00:05.864] The wind carries whispers of a time long gone by.
[00:10.571] The pipes cry out, a mournful sound,
[00:15.398] The harp strings hum, a gentle ground.
[00:24.146] [Verse 1]
[00:24.146] Beneath the moon's soft silver glow,
[00:26.449] The ancient stones their secrets show.
[00:28.750] In the language of the old, they speak,
[00:31.170] Of love and loss, of the strong and weak.
[00:34.669] [Pre-Chorus]
[00:34.669] Oh, hear the call of the distant shore,
[00:36.994] Where the waves crash and the eagles soar.
[00:39.361] In the heart of the land, the spirits roam,
[00:41.755] In the whispers of the ancients, we find our home.
[00:47.936] [Chorus]
[00:47.936] Whispers of the ancients, in the night they sing,
[00:52.367] Of the days of old, and the joy they bring.
[00:57.154] In the echoes of the past, we find our way,
[01:01.835] In the whispers of the ancients, we stay.
[01:08.968] [Verse 2]
[01:08.968] The fire burns low, the tales unfold,
[01:11.329] Of warriors brave and hearts of gold.
[01:13.670] In the dance of the shadows, the stories live,
[01:16.063] In the whispers of the ancients, we give.
[01:20.641] [Pre-Chorus]
[01:20.641] Oh, hear the call of the distant shore,
[01:22.872] Where the waves crash and the eagles soar.
[01:25.398] In the heart of the land, the spirits roam,
[01:27.765] In the whispers of the ancients, we find our home.
[01:33.893] [Chorus]
[01:33.893] Whispers of the ancients, in the night they sing,
[01:38.377] Of the days of old, and the joy they bring.
[01:43.085] In the echoes of the past, we find our way,
[01:47.739] In the whispers of the ancients, we stay.
[02:14.576] [Bridge]
[02:14.576] In the silence of the night, the stars align,
[02:19.388] In the whispers of the ancients, the truth we find.
[02:23.351] In the heart of the land, the spirits call,
[02:28.936] In the whispers of the ancients, we stand tall.
[02:36.223] [Chorus]
[02:36.223] Whispers of the ancients, in the night they sing,
[02:41.117] Of the days of old, and the joy they bring.
[02:46.037] In the echoes of the past, we find our way,
[02:50.904] In the whispers of the ancients, we stay.
[02:57.925] [Outro]
[02:57.925] In the mist of the highlands, where the old tales reside,
[03:03.231] The wind carries whispers of a time long gone by.
[03:08.098] The pipes cry out, a mournful sound,
[03:12.925] The harp strings hum, a gentle ground.

作词 : Pixelia
作曲 : Pixelia

In the mist of the highlands, where the old tales reside,
The wind carries whispers of a time long gone by.
The pipes cry out, a mournful sound,
The harp strings hum, a gentle ground.

Beneath the moon's soft silver glow,
The ancient stones their secrets show.
In the language of the old, they speak,
Of love and loss, of the strong and weak.

Oh, hear the call of the distant shore,
Where the waves crash and the eagles soar.
In the heart of the land, the spirits roam,
In the whispers of the ancients, we find our home.

Whispers of the ancients, in the night they sing,
Of the days of old, and the joy they bring.
In the echoes of the past, we find our way,
In the whispers of the ancients, we stay.

The fire burns low, the tales unfold,
Of warriors brave and hearts of gold.
In the dance of the shadows, the stories live,
In the whispers of the ancients, we give.

Oh, hear the call of the distant shore,
Where the waves crash and the eagles soar.
In the heart of the land, the spirits roam,
In the whispers of the ancients, we find our home.

Whispers of the ancients, in the night they sing,
Of the days of old, and the joy they bring.
In the echoes of the past, we find our way,
In the whispers of the ancients, we stay.

In the silence of the night, the stars align,
In the whispers of the ancients, the truth we find.
In the heart of the land, the spirits call,
In the whispers of the ancients, we stand tall.

Whispers of the ancients, in the night they sing,
Of the days of old, and the joy they bring.
In the echoes of the past, we find our way,
In the whispers of the ancients, we stay.

In the mist of the highlands, where the old tales reside,
The wind carries whispers of a time long gone by.
The pipes cry out, a mournful sound,
The harp strings hum, a gentle ground.