▫Avantasia▫ © 2016▫ - ▫Master Of The Pendulum▫ | Текст песни

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• ▫Avantasia▫ © 2016▫
• ▫Master Of The Pendulum▫

[Aaron:]
Who‘s the one who‘s stretching out his hand
Is it it or is it me that won‘t lose hold
Take on to the pendulum and sway
Like a mistletoe I‘m clinging to the cold, yeah

[Watchmaker:]
I am the trellis for those in need to twine around
The rock of ages for those who‘re meant to wander around
I got no time for a break and we got no time to waste
I‘ll save it up in the pace, I‘ll quantify thoughts away
that you don‘t need anyway, oh what a beautiful day...

[Aaron:]
Tic toc tic toc
Someone's watching over me

[Watchmaker:]
Begging for a dance
While your sands are running out
Rigid and firm‘s what I hold in my hands
Tick away time, I allot and I divide
Master of the hands that guide you
Run if you can while the war drum‘s ticking on
Ancient of days, I‘m the shouldering pace
I will make you mine, I allot and I divide
Master of the hands that push you

That‘s who I am.
The master of these hands

I lead the horse to the water and I make it drink
I‘m here to force precision just on everything

[Aaron:]
I feel your breath in my neck
I feel you behind my back
And as I‘m turning around
There's just this frightening sound
I feel it everywhere
Oh I know that you‘re there...

Tic toc tic toc
Someone's watching over me

Begging for a dance while your sands are running out
Rigid and firm‘s what you hold in your hands
Tick away time, you allot and you divide
Master of the hands that guide you

Run if you can while the war drum‘s ticking on
Ancient of days: you‘re the shouldering pace
[Watchmaker:]
I will make you mine, I allot and I divide
Master of the hands that push you

[Aaron:]
Angels fall
Time's gonna winnow all
Dying dreams
Right from wrong
Dwell in a run
Turn the wheel
Something‘s reaching out for me

[Watchmaker:]
Begging for a dance
While your sands are running out
Rigid and firm‘s what I hold in my hands
Tick away time, I allot and I divide
Master of the hands that guide you

Run if you can while the war drum‘s ticking on
Ancient of days, I‘m the shouldering pace
I will make you mine, I allot and I divide
Master of the hands that push you

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