Hírek | Tagok | Chat | Fórum | Képtár | Cikkek | Koncertek | Zenekarok | Bejelentkezés |
4. 10's My skin is cold, Transfusion with somebody Morose and old, Drop into fruitless dying It was tempting and bared, The whoring angel rising Now burning prayers, My silent time of losing My foes - they can't destroy my body Colliding slow, like life itself Long for the blur, We cannot dry much longer Cement to dirt, Disgusted with my cheapness My foes - they can't destroy my body Colliding slow, like life itself Reaching down, staring up (at the forgiver) |
Letöltés |
| |||
|