attached to this sudden notion I have of you When an avalanche of Gospels shudders my ways There is only the wind and words in ashes every time it is more diffuse
There is no pain or madness, only you as a premonition flooded of sour nostalgia, my pores The time severs the agonizing, observing its fruits, Interrogating all my whims The hell is your skin consumed by heralds of the night, that with modest anguish i contemplate These suffocating streets where rain and i were one
your delirious laugh deafens the pain of the decapitated one Hours impregnated with cowardice and false hope I still hope to return everything that you fucking gave me
I want to drink those tears intoxicated with hatred dismember these walls that still scream my name Echoes that are tearing my soul and lead me to the delirium Returning to the same stream where my reflection is more diffuse every timeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
