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автор:
Echoes
автор:
A Thousand Years Of Plagues
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Tide to the rejection, breathing so deeply, so deeply. For every page I burn my tears will found a way, cause this wounds haven’t..haven't aged a day. We never wanted but somehow we are our own disease, regardless of an overture to the surface. Many a heart is aching but you can’t read them all, it’s not the great depression for me. My integrity's darken, oh, Lord, my hands were shaking again, ‘Cause I never expect to get better. Contempt, drag me to my own death. Contempt, drag me to my own grave. I come to realize there never was a [bad word] exit, you betray every motion. The grief for me is still too near, your shadow’s still beating me, you should never [bad word] raped me. The grief for me is still too near, your shadow’s still beating me, you should never [bad word] raped me. Hidden voices whisper to me, hidden voices whisper to my ears. Many tears break tonight, many tears breaks to night, many tears before the final outcome, I was defeated and broken. I remember you like a thousand years of plagues. I refuse to have you again in any way, I remember every [bad word] thing.
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