Who are we but the cancer of our own dreams? The forecast seemed degrading, when they said it would be raining While the storm that is at hand, is one they'd never comprehend The corpse hung there for hours, its branches were in bloom And gave birth to bitter flowers, as the winds danced to their tune We live our nice little lives built on lies swallowed whole And we wipe our dirty mouths, and keep begging them for more The new word was a sedative, the masses stood in awe A bark mistook for poetry, a man mistook for god And as we set to sail once more, we try to break the tides And though we'll never reach the shore, this ship will never sinkTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
