m picking my head up off the floor. I?ve never seen so perfectly clear. Things are getting a little better, Forget about the last four years. Faces come. Faces go. Chutes
Called to see if your back Was still aligned and your sheets Were growing grass all on the corners of your bed But you've got too much to wear on your
An address to the golden door I was strumming on a stone again Pulling teeth from the pimps of gore when hatched A tragic opera in my mind... And
I was just bony hands as cold as a winter pole You held a warm stone out new flowing blood to hold Oh what a contrast you were To the brutes in the
[Music by Arkdae, Lyrics by Hylgaryss] Une lueur scintille dans la nuit, Et l'ange tombe du haut des cieux, Les ailes déchirées par son
Just last night I woke from some unconscionable dream And had it nailed to my forehead again To keep this boat afloat There are things you can't afford
After all these implements and text designed by intellects So vexed to find evidently there's just so much that hides And though the saints of us divine
She shone up bright like a knife Wearing tennis shorts made of stripes Hand in hand to the grass and we got it right Got it nice, nice, nice Just a glimpse
dawn And there are no barking sparrows Just emptiness to dwell upon. I fell into a winter slide And ended up the kind of kid who goes down chutes
Untie me, I've said no vows The train is getting way too loud I gotta leave here my girl Get on with my lonely life Just leave the ring on the rail For
Eyeless in the morning sun you were Pale and mild, a modern girl Taken with thought, still prone to care Makin tea in your underwear You went out in the
After that confrontation You left me wringing my cold hands We shared some information We might not recover from Will I watch your convictions Melt like
la formation de la ligne par la destruction de la base de cette maudite pyramide qui jadis nous narguait. Et chaque pierre enlevee represente leur chute
Un soleil bleu liquide, coule, des projecteurs Il est tombe livide, pas loin des compresseurs Sous les paillettes mauves son regard tremble encore Et
Accrochee dans le vent frais, a l'air libre je vais bien. Accouchee d'une main honnete, semence de rien. Refrain : Plus raide sera la descente, plus
The stains on your shirt matched the stains on your floor, you?ve got your head between your knees and your begging for more. another round should help
(Instrumental)
