Cold, corroded steel is no home for man And neon cement wounds will only drain your life
Industrial wombs are transformed in the grinder Ironic shells and farcical Sibyl oracles
Yet some are made of flesh and bone and come from the true lands The mirror then becomes undeniable And you can see the sand in the hourglass ticking away Though the autocrats will blind themselves to stay sane
They believe they are divine, the strongest ones on Earth That joy leads to weakness and they hold fast against it
But when the tides come in they'll be jaded and alone Used up by manipulators and unable to forget Looking down on those who still have energy Trusting that their wisdom is a holy curse of sadness
And the so-called fools will have a garden That grows with no question of dead or aliveTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
