Is the city open? C'est beau romain, c'est beau Are there any morning-papers yet? Too early, a sandwich, thanks
The Agony Scene Procession The stench of the hopeless and wounded. The cries that escape from the of depths of regret. Your bleeding mass in procession
Instrumental
On a construit des murailles privees de lumiere Reves de jardins, de fleurs, d'ombre et la poussiere J'y ai fait quelques mondes, quelques endroits Mon
I?m so incredible wait Wit no metal to waist I flow great And that?ll level ya face But I?ll still let a nigga have it You talk greasy but u still
The funeral procession passed by here today, confusion and questions left strewn in its wake. But I feel like I knew his pain. or mechanical failure
(Instrumental)
[Music: L. Korsholm] [No lyrics]
Avant de sceller la porte De notre histoire passee Et que la vie ne m'emporte Au large de nos annees Je veux t'enlasser encore Et de nos bras scelles
[Iriscience] Aiyyo Ev (Whattup Rak?) There's a lot of cats didn't see this one comin Lotta cats not gon' understand Never saw the path that we walked
What went through your head when you acted like i never knew the way you poisoned us, i'll shove this in your face if you wake up on the car ride home
Have you ever seen what lightning can do? In a moment send your world for a loop Leave your body trembling Fingertips are tingling? But I saw you come
Voci che entrano come gabbiani fiumi di bandiere e serieta nell'aria del mattino e l'anima scavata dalla verita e un Dio che vive dentro Siamo noi le
Don?t move Baby Don?t move I just want to take this all in The moonlight dancing off your skin Our time. Lets take our time I just want to look in your
shadows are finally freed to hover... the wintry landscape, apart from their mated-masters, they seem serene has they dance childishly. has for my soul
There is no end to this I have seen your face But I don't recognize all these things You must have left behind It's a problem, you know That's been there
I stood above them all and watched for days. I felt as though my own kind were all that mattered and kept me sane. I gathered them to me, watched their
Waiting around, for a funeral train in Chester, and I don't feel it's coming round. I heard my mother, crying in the kitchen, doing her best not to make