Whether you think what I regret? Whether you know what I grieve? There are no those prays and spells... It only a pain inside of deceaseds
No... I´m not alive... I´m as dream in your eyes No... I´m not dead... I´m (only) bitterness of loss No... I´m not alive... I´m only the grown old face No... I´m not dead... In light of the candles obsequial
Blessing all your illnesses I lay my hands on the fallen asleep face Cold and calmness... My palms burn... it´s a pain inside of deceaseds
[... The world of my reflections In your eyes... in your tears All comes to an end Whether you think...?]...
We shall not dare to touch To icons of eternity To reflections of our faces In beams of a funeral sunset We shall not dare to touch To icons of eternity To reflections of our faces In beams of a funeral sunset
No... I´m not alive... I´m as dream in your eyes No... I´m not dead... I´m (only) bitterness of loss No... I´m not alive... I´m only the grown old face No... I´m not dead... In light of the candles obsequial