Mechalonecholy - Waiting For Truth | Текст песни

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• Mechalonecholy
• Waiting For Truth

It is cold...
Ice hands like coldest weapon
I need gloves
of your warming skin
I can't hold
my demons that can't keep on
hiding the crows
of my black wing's sins

In your veins
flows the sticky lava
I want to flood
the universe by it
Fire rain,
tender amalgam
what else is so good?
what else is so sweet?

(One for death and two for birth,
Three for wind and four for earth,
Five for fire, six for rain,
Seven's joy and eight is pain,
Nine to go, ten back again!)

My pulse's so loud
but I will overtake you
discreetly
I'll make the silence shout
all around
is windows in your dream's view
carefully
opened inside-out

I don't get lost
in your decor to worldless
I have a map
drawn up by my own dreams
there's your ghost
has left his mark and letters
in the webs
of our loony bin

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