: I still think about you lots sometimes It makes me sad when I think about you lots sometimes It makes me laugh out loud when I think of you lots sometimes
: Mama, I feel so scared For three years Liberty and walking free Was every night my fantasies And mama, I feel so afraid So swallow me up your open
: If I see you On the same cloud as mine To say hello, would that be fine? If I said things Said things that were wrong Words at this point too late
: Pain, pain, never again A never having existed emotion called pain A home where tranquility lives and prevails The bluest of blue skies and the most
Screaming, searching, euphoric shadow. Screaming, searching, euphoric dream. Phantoms in the heart of darkness hide behind the moonlight. Keeping their
As cyclones detach from the world above And all the other worlds beneath them flow Timewinds caressing the dust of cold memories Sought, to strive in
[words: D. Snider] WELCOME TO THE ABANDONED LAND COME ON IN, CHILD; TAKE MY HAND HERE THERE'S NO WORK OR PLAY ONLY ONE BILL TO PAY THERE'S JUST FIVE
[music: Mustis]
The apparition of two faces in disgust Invisible but yet so clear Reflections seen by a fugitive Trying to escape the looking glass Blood runs from open
Infected by invalid behaviour While capturing the stench of divine putrefaction Confess to slavery for the world saviour Give praise and inhale the corruption
Oh, look at those lifeless leaves All their precious pride is taken away A lost creation for a graven image Trembling of nothing but their own fear [
Let chaos entwine On defenseless soil Remove errors of man And sweep all the weakening kind I am war, I am pain I am all you've ever slain I am
[music: Shagrath]
Chains of despair Cloaked by darkness The thundering echoes of great destruction to come Mankind's mysteries The dying world [chorus:] Madness in it
Ride the vortex winds with the beast inside Cast down all memories from a past and future world The cynic icons and the cryptic writings As a picturesque
Incarnated marvels simplified Effects from such a disconsolate kind Impotence of the once so perfect living Erase and rewind Stand rigid for the next
A dismal universal hiss, the sound of public scorn The brush that sweeps across the spectral fields This landscape is not without a sense of epic wonder
Thousand different paths So many sterile ends I chose the Devil's path Never shall the sun kiss my face And caress me with it's burning light For I