How long have I been wandering uphill? My lord, did you paint these meadows? They are colourless
Roar... agonizing distant noise
Look at me I kneel down before thee Bow my head Cover my ears Weep...
This soil did never alter in two thousand years I wonder if it is you who hunts them - Or are they following me...?
This is a burden I was never taught to heave...
To you I implore, oh father! Take this noise away from me! Save me!
Father, make (of) me the seed for a silent meadow
Limp as a doomed horse I resume my way In tears, on chafed limbs
There is no herb to be laid Upon the stigmata of immortality's burden
Father, make (of) me the seed for a silent meadow.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
