Immortal Souls - Constant


There is none righteous, all have turned aside. Sorrow - fill the lives of falseness and

lies. Not hunger or thirst, diseases or wars. Nothing is enough for dying mankind. There is no horror, which man is not capable. Misery - and failure, is it what man is made of?

I step aside to listen, the cry of this world. Pain comes in many forms, enhanced in hands of men. Constant - amount of pain driving us insane. I have less so you get more.

Constant are the cries. You have less so I get more. Constant are the cries. Constant - amount of pain driving me insane. I have less so you get more. Constant are the cries.

You have less so I get more. Constant are the cries. Have a feast at Vanity Fair. I have less so you get more. Constant are the cries. Have a feast at Vanity Fair. You have less so I get more. Constant are the cries.

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