Monotonous beings slaves of their own morbid thoughts Slowly moving at the edge of this top hill The voice calls me, smoothing ear With rough and grunting sounds Taking this feeling of gray exile Mildew epitaphs, suspended in isolation, plundered mausoleums decorate this land The light on my skin does not burn as well, only warms my essence I listen to soft whispers, that announce that the star king will have its daily funeral Soon the moon will kiss this field Cease the Victorian lullabies Shed this blood that it no longer wants, which no longer needs to flow This has no end, I am still falling without reaching any part Mildew epitaphs, suspended in isolation, plundered mausoleums decorate this land The light on my skin does not burn as well, only warms my essence I listen to soft whispers, that announce that the star king will have its daily funeral
They throw me to the black abyss Breaks my face, dismembered my limbs, lacerate my soul Lacerate my soul The moon will give orchids for burials to come... Have taken me with their pale hands, and with inhuman force They throw me to the black abyss....Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
