Refusing to see all of those infected minds Just to feel better in your own veins Asking yourself why and how to share all those visions And more this nightmares of that lost humanity Closed recipient filled of ominous spikes
Don’t enter my private desires Bad habits are ruling forever Pushing the door of a closed reality For the science or any other learning
Metaphor of colors Blood red black Altar of flesh Razor’s cuts macabre breath of creation Remembering old deception
Censored! Project! Censored! Project!
The wounds created by the flesh Seem to be occulted by all of us Metaphor of colors Blood red black Altar of flesh razor’s cuts Closed recipient filled of ominous spikes
Censored! Project! Censored! Project!
Little by little truth’s blood runs among us as an empty river I’m like you making the black side To reason and to kill the ideal lineageTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
