04 - Flying - Lost Wings | Текст песни

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• 04 - Flying
• Lost Wings

Pure as a mountain stream,
Credulous as the unborn child,
Strong as thousands of swords,
Defenceless as a blind kitten.

She flew to the fire of affection,
Burning the graceful wings.
That was love calling her to the light
And made her walk through the darkness.

But now she's lying on the ground,
And her mighty wings are cut.
Between life and death, in gloom she's crying,
But may be it will be better.

But deep purple blood trickles
To the snow-white feather,
So she never can fly again
Even too much believing.

And since now she won't dream any more,
And she wont believe in the truth.
But during the whole life she'll be dying,
May be it will be better for her.

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