I dropped my anchor in the dead of night Unpacked my suitcase and threw it away I fell asleep in the funeral fire I gave my clothes to the police man
What a mess our lives turned out to be It was at its best when you and I were only 3 We can start with all the things that turn us out And we can go right
the cedar doesn't do much for these memories. i am as cold as the monuments you left for me, and another one passes in the evening. a knee deep grave
I can hear the turning of the key I've been deceived by the clown inside of me I thought that he was righteous but he's vain Oh, something's a telling
The glitter on a paint and plaster face Is covering desire and disgrace We could be lovers but no one suspects at all Once you're inside that costume
I've looked straight into your eyes And turned my head for the last time Because I was scared to leave these walls in ruin Like the fate of those who
Welcome to the abandoned world where the people never say a word they just close their eyes. My life starts as a restless heart mind and soul where never
I recall going madly in love with you And I remember this, how could I forget? Regret is a needle in my neck It's slowly filling me with poison, spreading
[Kon Artis] I damage your neck With the butt of the tech Vandalous sex Cuttin' you ear to ear With the razor of my Gillette You couldn't get respect
I can not see but darkness and death I feel cold breeze enter the tune Thy voice once so soft, declaring Thy love Why hast Thou forsaken me I enter the
This troubled waters burden is Drawning me tonight Of narrow straits of pain and hell Is oceans in my sight Remains of hope wail feeble Death in quiet
Prepare to meet your maker Your unmaker, your remaker make yourself Don't fake, you'll make the same mistakes And if you are fed up then ask yourself
Sorry, why should I be sorry I'm not sorry Just because you think I'm wrong Sorry, doesn't mean I'm fucking wrong Sorry for nothing There's always something
[lyrics: Albert Bell / Music: Forsaken] Crimson tears summon me to the eclipse of my death For the reckoning of my sins I shall pledge A black veil of
Thoughts float through my human structure The destruction of belief reflects in grief What has become of the creator of individuals That gave birth to
The Old Ones were, The Old Ones are, And the Old Ones shall be..... A temple of shame, He is caste in the never-ending maze of darkness,, Waiting for
Deamon breed Deamon breed Machines as fathers for our creations Tissues burned and recycled We're nailed against our own perfection... We're nailed against
[Lead: Persson] Never ending journeys through visions A path - the trail of hollow minds Dark lands beyond the unknown The silence from nature embrace