Behind

Hell's Island

Compositor: Não Disponível

You’re walking behind the door
Your lips are running across the door
A shiver and silence

You’re breathing, I feel, it’s slow
But soon the sigh becomes a storm
A dark pure rain comes
A true dark tear drops

Swallow pain
Sliding on silky wails
Painting hopes
On my skin your nails

The door we burn

The wax strains on our beings
Lines on my face are broken years

And the cross forsakes
Last bottle, awaking
An early taste of you
Last time, in bloom

Hollowed the pain
Sweating on sweet wails
Carving hopes
Under my skin your nails

The door we broke down

The wax strains on our beings
Lines on my face are broken years

And the cross forsakes
Last bottle, awaking
An early taste of you
Last time, in bloom

A disappeared, used and naked Christ
Tomorrow maybe won’t rescue from oblivion and icons
Alone with you
I eascape from the shelter
Fragile shelter of the sneaking solace

The wax strains on our beings
Lines on my face are broken years