Icy winds scream at my window In my avian dreams I'm far away – out of time And out of reach of your bloody claws But they call me...
The honey's dripping still down the withered tree And the only ones to taste it are the flies Is this what they call wisdom in these parts? Well, the wisest part of us can be the worst...
As predators we are in all but honesty And we take the kind for weak and conquer them Our song is loud And thundering But so little light, so little light it brings...
All cruel and unforgiving egos we must be For our strength relies on images of strength To lose it all? Damned if we lose it all! We, heirs of Ozymandias, The strong!
And then it came to me With a sword and with a kiss... But I cannot tell the two apart...
The crown you vowed to keep upon your head beheads you now The burden of the gown is no less grave... Well, tell me, mortal man, are you still whole? Or you hold no substance at all?
There is a hole within our Whole Where terrors hide and crawl And dreadful blades are honed in there at night...
...I hope one day you'll see the poetry in me...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
