Inside this forlorn chapel Oh how sweet is my grief I stare at the heavens Waiting for an angel to take me Isn't thy mercy like the beautiful sunshine After a cold December dawn Or is it like a fluid substance Untouchable to caress With our sensitive lips For ages we are building monuments in the air We are the architects of our wishes Constructing the palaces we have never seen But isn't all our blood Flowing from the marble statue on thy holy soil Don't we all dream of the Sistine chapel Can't thou lead us to the garden of Eden Could thou comfort us Or do thou leave us in our misery For how long do we have to suffer from this pain When will we smell the roses on our grave In how many rivers of pain do we have to batheTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
