In white dressed they dancing Love met the tragic face With wind they are dancing And wind dances in their hairs Sadness decorates gently beautiful face Roses, stranger, a victim, voices much further Kneeling in the grass she picks She picks the bloodstained knife To recognize in this a key to the other side
Sometimes they smiling There's no blood in their veins A cruel memories Of life sacrificing scenes
From depth of haze she's coming back Walking among the moonlit roses Graceful, still invisible, no! Like an angel, shy paradise bird
Being entrapped eternaly On the other side of mirror's glass This used to be her playground This used to be her grave
In white dressed they dancing Love met the tragic face With wind they are dancing And wind dances in their hairs
Sadness decorates gently beautiful face Roses, stranger, a victim, voices much further Kneeling in the grass she picks She picks the bloodstained knife To recognize in this a key to the other side
Sometimes they smiling There's no blood in their veins A cruel memories Of life sacrificing scenes
From depth of haze she's coming back Walking among the moonlit roses Graceful, still invisible, no! Like an angel, shy paradise bird
Being entrapped eternaly On the other side of mirror's glass This used to be her playground This used to be her graveTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
