What if remembrance Is a form of incarceration? What if amnesia Can be a blessing in disguise? Molten kernels of memory Keep falling into my hands Keep falling into my hands And the tide is getting higher
To carry the burden of words Is to have a desert within A desert flooded with shadows of the past Underneath the mask There is no substance There is no reason To keep on going These murky waves Are swallowing us The endless current Is pulling us into the abyss Molten kernels of memory Keep falling into my hands Keep falling into my hands Keep falling into my handsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
