Слова:
Amaranthine Trampler

Divine in our guilt, we wilt like flowers growing from poisoned landscapes Our hearts never blameless in their vomitory fixations Dressed in umbilical

After the rain has gone and the clouds part The first rays of light mark a fresh start But I miss the gloom, and the dark solitude In my blacked-out

Your existence is mine to thank For every sincere emotion I know And your apathy makes it all the more gripping The four walls of aspiration have closed

Seek beauty in whores The land you seek is far from here Just follow the path Pass the fallen victims of destinies past In silent romanticism Trample