Collector of counted measures
Freak that seak our inner source
They suck it and are filled with power
Never seen that kind of force

And they torture me
I'll keep my secrets
To keep my soul on my own
To hide my regrets

The collector of souls
Have come from the stones
But as I have my sores
They have their wounded forms
The collector of souls
Stares to my eyes
But as I have my sores
I have their wounded form

Passengers of timeless deserts
Greeps that break us in a breeze
Breathing in and blowing hazards
This soldier never fall on his knees

And they torture me
I'll keep my secrets
To keep my soul on my own
To hide my recrets

The collector of souls
Have come from the stones
But as I have my sores
They have their wounded forms
The collector of souls
Stares to my eyes
But as I have my sores
They have their wounded form

The collector of souls
Have come from the stones
But as I have my sores
They have their wounded forms
The collector of souls
Stares to my eyes
But as I have my sores
I have their wounded form

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