The picture fades, everything looks the same It tastes like ash, the smell of death, and the curtain falls I count the hours, where have they gone? The passion's done, only left this useless flesh The days are dull and colourless
The frame distorts and night crawls in In shades of red, in blinding whites I build a temple you tear it down A still-life born inside the womb
This life you paint, where does it lead? Why do the lines keep blurring on the way Abstract impression so void of sense Demented perspective
Night crawls in - The tones melt into one
Why can't I see anymore the colours of life? Why can't I feel the need for pain? Grey's the hour, grey's the prospect, grey the picture The future looked rosy until I went colourblind
Paint it now, give me life, deal your death Pour your colours, assemble stories, make them whole Burn the frame!
Why can't I see anymore the colours of life? Why can't I feel the need for pain? Grey's the hour, grey's the prospect, grey the picture The future looked rosy until I went colourblind
The picture fades, everything looks the same It tastes like ash, the smell of death, and the curtain falls I count the hours, where have they gone? The passion's done, only left this useless flesh The days are dull and colourlessTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
