As it snowed, the efforts of his toil gave in To a white, crystal veil that blankets the dead Just as well, sometimes you couldn't look at them Snow covered all and the harvest would dream again He worked alone and the ground was so frozen and cold Later, many would be taken by his strength and vigor But all the more by the interiors of his psyche And the craftsmanship of his labor Time had granted many companions Upheaved from the Earth, sometimes in pieces Now assembled into a personal museum Dust covered all and he would never be alone again Can you not see the helplessness on his face? Condemn the man who was always alone He was no more a ghoul, than a pathetic angel Without a full appreciation of what he had done Can you not see the loneliness on his face He's better off dead, he should have never been born What now, what can be done? Burn the past and burn what could becomeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
