Pro:
You are fighting with the Shade
Of the torment life and death
And you're dreaming of a heal...
You don't understand...
That you're fighting with yourself.
I
Where the Leta river flows
In the grey mud of your disease
You're lost in crawd of friends.
Your physician isn't too young to know
That he can't make you believe and free
Without consent of your hands.
II
The Death is dancing on your chest
And her face is around you while you're sleeping
It's on your skin when you're awake
She gives you kisses of abscess
And you won't return in a cry of distress
You're on the step of a dazzle lake...
III
You don't see the core: you're mad
But you're feeling it, you're flying, while...
While selecting Her to be vise me...
The rain is going to the bed
And you're starting to transpire.
An anhelation tears your temples by time...
Epi:
My hands are, ah, so deep in reap...
I won't spare you in knocking' pant
A stagnation is iller then a bray rhyme...
Ah, how vexing is the fact
That you don't understand
That you're fighting with yourself...
R:
No one can the moment change
Even me
Even I can't stop the march of cold Eternity
When the eyes are languid deep
And two hands can't stay on range...
...
No one can the silence break
Even me
Even I can't warn obstacles
Ache in head or pain in breast
Even I can't choose the way...
Even me...
(Except you...)