[Verse] There is no sounds of god to be found on my knees Where the heart and heat scorching inside of that needs I’m a creep, I plead for misdeed The bug smells the greatest from afar Could I only have a sense I would feel that wings are shining under her shell And I take the way to the far strawberry bush And then I am dropping into your blossoms Rot into a swarm It’s late It’s late, I am going forward Going backward Going that constant, legs No shiver harms him No colour blinds him And nothing hurtsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
