You’re walking behind the door Your lips are running across the door A shiver and silence.
You’re breathing – I feel – It’s slow But soon the sigh becomes a storm A dark pure rain comes A true dark tear drops
Swallow pain Sliding on silky wails Painting hopes On my skin your nails
The door we burn
The wax strains on our beings Lines on my face are broken years
And the cross forsakes Last bottle, awaking An early taste of you Last time, in bloom
Hollowed the pain Sweating on sweet wails Carving hopes Under my skin your nails
The door we broke down
The wax strains on our beings Lines on my face are broken years
And the cross forsakes Last bottle, awaking An early taste of you Last time, in bloom
A disappeared, used and naked Christ Tomorrow maybe won’t rescue from oblivion and icons Alone with you I eascape from the shelter Fragile shelter of the sneaking solace
The wax strains on our beings Lines on my face are broken yearsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
