Run and hope it takes you in time. To my beginning or before. His and our father, whose life determines mine. The clouds have sunk to the earth, and sit as a smoldering fog. A top it all sits only he - on his throne of blood. A continent raised walls against itself and cast life into the sea / bodies into the sky / ashes beneath my feet, there is no air to breathe. Dusk set upon the sky years ago - too long ago. My face has changed, not from age, but still marred by time. Time is changing / leave my corpse be / no time to carry the weight of this spear. And through my heart beat / left here hanging / bless my body adorned with a crest. A cogwheel raised itself to the sky to block out the sun and our lives. My hands have been severed from these wrists, and pouring out these wounds are hopeless answers. So I’ll thrust my fingers through your flesh and push, like digging through white sand. Race war / culling / apocalypse, looming / what could have been is gone - never to return. Pages turning, prophets laughing / faithful conceding / His patience, his throne of blood. I will search your insides and pull from them anything with my likeness. I’ll search through each book, each issue, each chapter, and when I find what I need from you, I’ll forget you and claim it mine.
Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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