The drops of sweet mixed with a rain Washing walking bodies of the pain Their fallen life filled by depressive borrow The death has meddle into suicidal sorrow
Murder - the better escape from... Siskly entertainment has resulted to primitive I stand at reflect of moonlit light Compressing human dammnations of night
Walking victims dissecting the past Trying rebel I from the dust I feel, that I can read their dreams: \"Honey, I fly to you through my tears!\"
I don't want more to see! What for to me my eyes?\" The silent parade is finished. The brain rises: \"Here it is very cold. Where my warm skin?\" \"Metal blade is so old. What you mean?\"
The column has disappeared in darkness My mind was lost these native bodies: \"I want to resist But I already deceased!\"