Noise Process - Incarnate Тексты

Wandering through the desert on seas of broken glass
Mindless self-absorption knowing I am the last
Basking in the cold flames of my eternity
Miring all of my time waiting to be free

Rising up to claim what is mine
I will be the one to whom you bow.

Hopeless humanity toiling in the land
Pretending that their fate is crafted by their hand
Trifled self-awareness Learning from the past
Knowing that the next one will fall just as the last
Этот текст прочитали 93 раз.