Kecárna Playlisty
Obnov stránku
Desktop verze
Horní menu

In Every Grief-Stricken Blues - text

I believe these pale bones are mine
And all this dust over that grave
Today should float and twist and whirl
Along the smoke of my loose wraith

In every grief-stricken blues
I feel the woe of that old scene
When lying dead under their feet
I cheered out loud at my new Self!

Futile puzzles I leave behind
Hastin my skin to peel & grind
Before thy essence vanishes
And torn out my soul to pieces

What I hear now, what I can see
Is part of a greater degree
And as I'm crawling back to start
I design and write my own Light

Text přidal trasher

Tento web používá k poskytování služeb, personalizaci reklam a analýze návštěvnosti soubory cookie. Používáním tohoto webu s tím souhlasíte. Další informace.