Cold As I hold in my hand The last forsaken flame in this burnt up nest
Drown in tears On a blank frame I draw with this blazing feather pen
Lost Among voices turned to embers The ink becomes my ghost, my blood runs Cold
Life, war, all starts within a spark Your so-called truth set ablaze my past Burnt memories of my breathing shadow. Inflamed, I follow as much as I flee, I run, I fall down Part of a world on its course to oblivion
Death calls I've reached the final stage Under the warming lights I crumble Glanced by my other self Last act. And from the pit I rise As an inflamed feather Among the crumbled cinders that used to follow me
Cold As I hold in my hand The last forsaken flame of this burnt up place Among voices turned to embers On a blank frame My ink My blood RunsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
