Kings of our emptiness, the flagellants align Their mouths fill with questions, blessed they are by God's tokens
Ware to walk the painted...the painted path
Walking the painted path through our plague fields
Ware to walk the painted path Through the plague fields
Kings of this carousel, disfigured upon white horses With Goya's claws and Dore's wings Down golden locks to red crosses Crowned children screaming from funeral shrouds To rapid eye movement, heart-strings undone ...Our beautiful filth dances... and plague flowers
Why our wall to reason fall...only human
Kings of our emptiness, the flagellants align Their mouths fill with ashes and death's tongue
The dappled dying Flowering cold grey tombs With crumbling walls... I feel Our truth is laid bare
...And plague colours A masterpiece of pain The portrait of what we are...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
