Beyond the sun, beyond the moon, I fear the hands of fate will grasp me soon, My sins are vast, my past awash in red, But am I evil? Or just a man instead?, The shape of plight's colossal; it's draped in broken dreams, It sits atop a throne, constructed from our legacies, There is no hope of conquest; no chance for victory, We shall be diseased.
A race of bleak miasma, a flourish in the dark, A quandary to be made, for hand on flint to spark, Are we the key to cinder? Perhaps the phoenix flame, An ouroboros sent to ash, to be born again?, There is a beauty yonder, more vast than oceans deep, But many monsters do encircle ‘round salvation's keep, We craft the carnage tightly, to take catharsis clean, But just become the creatures; another devil's dream,
Another devil's dream,
A book for moral guidelines, what tides when words are lost, The crimson floods creation, eras old sins are wrought, Is there some scant salvation? The human heart to ark, To be a bastion for compassion when collective's stark, I have a sliver's fragment, of hope, to be redeemed, That there's a light inside the darkest parts of you and me, To craft the carnage tightly, to take catharsis clean, To not become the monsters; another devil's dream,
Tides of Man, Rise, disband, Sands we grasp, Damned, we laugh...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
