Lyrics |
O the ones, who have fallen apart Take away omnipresent blood All the suffer, that I forced to see You will never stir the pity of me...stir the pity of me I became something strange in this world And it kills me But I still remember the times When you didn't own them I will close the whole the worldin the prisons with tall towers They will throw me into dungeonsof their dead WALLS!!! They will become my thoughts About the days, weaved from the thousand hands United they mean as longas living moans are HEARD!!!...as living moans are heard They will become my thoughts About the days, weaved from the thousand hands Gather them!!! The dullness of the mind pouring down fromthe damp holes of commonness of those Whose walls return to life after the long oblivions Here are the hopes Sonn they also will revive... may be... But raising, glance over all the fascinationof your nonentity.
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