Heavy rain, my Lord,. you bring to the city,. disclosing hidden thoughts;. baptismal water. steeping my body,. rejecting my soul.. . Whispers of wind change to cries beyond my ear,.
Trapped in their world no free passage to leave. You accept their tyrannical dream. You pray to their gods not to your chosen ones. Freedom's clutched in the jaw of red kings.
My cry echoes on a naked wall. Cold like a crystal. Numbered hours creeping. Insanity strangles reality. . Weakened, crushed, formed. New dimensions arise.
In cover of a dazzling full moon. I pace in the hall rendered harmless by the memory. Of what I used to be night's soon over. I dread another sunrise the pain of knowing.
I am a god. I live tomorrow here today (I am far too young to worry). just open wide I see right through you anyway (it's so easy to be free). reach out.
Right from the start you know you put me in the dirt. I never even got a chance to get away. I take all the crap from your drool attack. The years fly and I get nothing to say.
Pull up your car, you're home from the night on the town. Could not find anyone to go home with, to show off your insecurity. So you put your 'I love you face' back on.
Straight out, I'm heading for a miracle. Pushing the edge making it subliminal. To loose or win that's not the essence. Teamwork makes for us all the difference.
Straight out, I'm heading for a miracle. Pushing the edge makin' it subliminal. To loose or win that's not the essence. Teamwork makes for us all the difference.
In the empty room. The stifling air daub closed inside four walls.. Liein' on my bed. I can see the stains. Over dirty floor. The passion' of creating heaven.
Run through the forest on a hot summer day. Trying to break down the walls of numbing pain. Give me a freedom to destroy. Give me a radioactive toy. Taster the water from the stream of running death.
This is the United States Of America. And you got the right to hate. Hold your watch so let's start busting hate. . Black against white. Yellow versus red.
Miasmic fungus infests the small intestine. Vitriolic juices burn through the stomach wall. Bursting carcinosis as chylase melts your guts. Crepitating neoplasm erupts with gore....
(Music: Steer). (Lyrics: Walker). Don't claim to be a prophet. Don't claim to read the stars. But I can see a future. Mapped out in scars. Look to the skies.
Coughing up a mixture. Of mucus, phlegm and bile. The sordid sight of burning flesh. Your stomach is reviled. . Spew up your sanguined guts. In your wooden box.
Snorting the stench of latent effluvium. And maturing damp fumes. This foul menage forces tears to your eyes. As the corpse's gas are exhumed. . Intoxicated by foul body odors.
(Music: Walker). (Lyrics: Walker). Hands in another's pocket. The bed they make. Is not the one in which they lie. The same old faces. The same old establishment.
"Urds bronn er ikke lenger et dunkelt dyp VI stirrer ned. I, men en levende strom som gr befruktende gjennem. Nordens land. Ja, mod Tilvaerelsens hoiste Syner kan.
"Urds bronn er ikke lenger et dunkelt dyp VI stirrer ned. I, men en levende strom som gr befruktende gjennem. Nordens land. Ja, mod Tilvaerelsens hoiste Syner kan.
"Urds bronn er ikke lenger et dunkelt dyp VI stirrer ned. I, men en levende strom som gr befruktende gjennem. Nordens land. Ja, mod Tilvaerelsens hoiste Syner kan.