The grip of dementia that smiles from a veil Distorts all my visions my passions of clay She gathers the nymphos the child and the rain The ballet of death is our own masquerade
The lanterns are shining from my stoned demise That sparkles like stars while I'm dying inside The ghost of my sorrow you just cannot bear For nothing is worth of my needless despair
The ballet won't stop Till our voices are whispers Like frozen drops at the hands of our trickster
You walk on the scaffold you try not to see You blame me for something you seem to esteem In who is delighted to laugh at your sorrow In name of your love she will kill you tomorrow
Silent is howling your death dressed in white You don't want to see that your time now is nigh I may be deceived by my silent devotion But all that Iʼll be is confetti in motion
The ballet won't stop Till our voices are whispers Like frozen drops at the hands of our tricksterTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
