Springtime, a little welcome after summer. Springtime, because the winter was a bummer. Find a shady tree where I can stop and sit. . Springtime, the grass is growin' right below me.
I'm sliding, sliding all around. I'm slipping, slipping on the ground. I'm gliding, make a figure eight. I'm sliding, isn't this great. We're slipping and sliding.
Any thought of moving on. Is a loop without an end. Back to the beginning. Reliving this over and over and over and over. While everything around me moves.
No sigas los pasos de san asesino. Vivimos en un siglo cruel, el 21. Mundo sacrificado, planeta de basuras. Importante es que despierten. Importante es que tu escapes.
Let the forest roam. . Does it feel I'm older?. Everything I've known. In the wind turns colder. . As I walk alone. I just think about her. And these woods turned home.
Chapter one. Coloring, blistering, peeling the shell of the mask I'm in. Do you speak in tongues that haunt the mind?. To feed and deprive. . Dry, blood, rain they shatter to pieces.
A putrid fire in the sky. When the hypocrite angels came in hordes. I merged all my hatred against them,. They ran as whores towards their own mutilation.
Play by Raymond, Music by Theatre of Tragedy. "Stay still patient; wilt thou my sister of merciful troth be?. I shall attempt the halter of thy life make less tighten'd!".
Can you see the storm getting closer now?. Tell me how it feels being out there. . A moment's glimpse of his vignette. As he shone a light on the falling wall.
Turn baby, turn. You've got the feeling for it. I'm the music. Dance with me, sway. . Are you ready for me?. Take a chance on me.. Turn baby, turn. You've got the feeling for it.
[something in russian]. . Space age pioneers. Exporing the outer spheres. Stars, planets, cosmos. Sterne, Planeten, Kosmos. . [russian again].
Man standing next to man, he's alone. I see only faces, I don't know. . I see faces staring, other faces staring. Don't talk, don't tell, don't talk, don't tell.
Whether He the quaint savant's power doth hold I know not,. Albeit aetat a thousand stars' birth He is -. Quoth I that for reasons to me oblivious. August of a granditude of servants is He held,.
Haste not thine wisdom, for the hollow is ta'en -. By whom, know I not; 'lack! am I of twain -. And as a crux - cede I my words -. Fro my heart wilt thou ne'er.
Cede the wherefores and do na chide,. Maybe I am peenging - ween of joy;. Cede the wherefores and do na chide -. Thrawn and slab of leer I hold thee, and yore was 'gal..