In the evening mist, I can see them crawl.
Through the darkened trees, by the waterfall.
Come to us they call to me, feel the knives of our misery.
Demons bind my hands with ropes that burn to black.
The knives of your indifference are thrust into my back!
Somewhere in the evening mist,
I know you're walking by.
In darkened dreams I call to you.
My words just fall and die.
Demons bind my hands with ropes that burn to black.
The knives of your indifference slip softly in my back.
Rick Miller еще тексты
Оценка текста
Статистика страницы на pesni.guru ▼
Просмотров сегодня: 1