Hold your head up high although your neck is in your hands Swing spines dance like vines, fluttering below the branch
Your face is my illusion Etching in me one more mystery Blessed with sacred visions Instilling in me your memory
A step too far into shaded ferns As fate works to tempt my heel Where concealed curses await reprieve A severed head would be revealed
Lay beside the lone willow weeping For a breath while dreaming Awake to find myself astray Amidst the nights lonesome decay
Crimson slips from cold lips, in palor now adorned What demon left this rock here, one cold autumn mornTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
