Can you describe the days of the past, Can you save the days of the future? A breeze comes here, and it is the last to bring us cold the holy cure. Is it possible to free the condemned, To gaze upon the cloudy mist? A soul tormented by a secret leaves another empty list.
If the fugitive, in want of credits has choked alone, his pitiful cry. Then you fled, the world of fits but all you've got is a tasty lie. Your image, you search in vain. An ex-convict, or a childish man. And you doze off alone in the void but wet dreams must be avoided.
After a strange wandering, you wake up like a selfish prisoner, a herd's tup. Emotionless, thoughts pass away and get you to the endless bay. The road has already clouded the tracks to the Troy of your ego, to the warring packs, where your soul, became recidivist, and married Helen, to the darkest beast.
The costly shoes you hired yesterday are rotting in the dirt, rotting away. The fragile box, tears apart overthrowing, the song of the sad. And you wish to know, the naked earth, but in that life, you're dead, before your birth...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
