Backstreets blooming – gates of thunder, Roaming curves of heated flesh I remote myself – no wonder For I’ve spiced my bleeding gash
Crimson red You are- White as something I would never see Newly wed You are- Rescued by Your tormentor
Greedy lot They are Hunting night And day. Certain preys We are For this place Takes no prisoners
Where are you hiding? Whom are you saving? Where are you heading? It is dead end! Why are holding Hands in your pockets Brooding on forehand You would regret?
Ator - mentador, Ator-mentador, Que paso? Que paso? Que paso? Que paso?
Unmask me I pray For the sake Of your sanity. Lull me back To dreams Where I am Beyond gravity
Be as mad As me For we’ve gone Away. In this game Feel free- Trade Toledo For Centralia
What is your credo When you are haunted? Where is your armour When you’re in love? Why should it be Given mal-token, Thrown into gutter, Filled up with tar?
I seek to find You in Every disgrace, I mark my route With spider web lace. I risk all sane Reasons For ties, Hoping that Once You would recognize Nobody’s here We are The one