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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-05-21 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
Whenever I can see the end,
The only thing that matters Seams to be a passing flame, 'Cause I'm beneath the waters... The river of reality above, Is flowing through my mind, And all the things that happened Are now so fear to find... Some careless, little features That dawned in dust and flavor Of emptiness and darkness Stole the peace of temper. The primal sense of past It was to have a continence The first layer of dust Exists to skip the garbage. The future leads to dreamers And plans that maybe'll happen But we'll forget the trembles If something changes into better.
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