Icon in Me. Human Museum. Empty Hands. Zeneszám

Lived, never lived, died, died in vain. Sacred rumours, embeds my life.
Forever and ever to be still, break me, shake the last piece to sense.

Every time when I look my self in the mirror, I see this pale hollow face, staring, no saviour will help me to solve my misery, ever, never, never sever.

Softly I'm fading away, smoothly I'll disappear, naked is the truth, dead and empty are my hands.

The hunger strikes, fled into darkness, finally I'll find my home

v.2 Flames, burning flames, touches and dispels me again. In my coffin, were dusk embrace, nothing in the mirror reflects.

Softly I'm fading away, smoothly I'll disappear, naked is the truth, and dead and empty are my hands.

Blessed are these sins, forgiven are these wings that carries me away, and barely swings me to sleep. Night sweeps its veil again a cold captures my soul, deviates from all, deviates from me.

Reckless and torn, thru it all.

The hunger strikes, fled into darkness, finally I'll find my home, my own nest, where I can dwell inside.

Softly I'm fading away, smoothly I'll disappear, naked is the truth, and dead and empty are my hands.

The hunger strikes, fled into darkness, finally I'll find my home, my own nest, where I can dwell inside