Pesni.guru - сайт для Гуру
You see me being free
A spark in a funeral mist
Dead turf, an island of the earth
Floating away, carrying my last words
Everything’s more
Unborn freak of a whore
Scars and a caress
My sight’s torn apart
As I watch you bury your heart
What can the pyre do to ourselves?
Dust is whirling around me and I see
Constructing an epitaph to my soul
My thoughts rest in a hole
Where do you go with your art?
Your lips are cracking and tears turn to scars!
Your bed waits your sickness of time
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