Twelve dreams for the Red Queen under the crown of stone Eight voracious beasts born from eight restless nights Four nails piercing the flesh of the sinner One prayer for summoned called by this song
A righteous snare to keep mankind from ascending to the stars Mortality was believed to be god's punishment
Since the apple was plucked from the sacred tree They were all wrong
Death is not a wicked thing Is this her inhabitants last dance? Alone to face death and pestilence Confronted by the eerie and unknown Mortals became desperate for answers A flocks flight makes for an omen The falling of a star A dire presage turning to priests for interpretation
When religion failed men turn to science I saw them build such vain cities, crafting machines made for endless war
New questions flourished as old answers withered
What is darkness but lurking sun? What is wall but enslaved stone? What is glass but tortured sand? What is song but a call to arms? What is hate but jilted love? What is life but death pending? Life is just death pending
A righteous snare to keep mankind from ascending to the stars Mortality was believed to be god's punishment
Since the apple was plucked from the sacred tree They were all wrong Death is not a wicked thing Nor some holy retribution A true punishment would be to never know It's sweet kiss, awake from the harshness and be born once more.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
