(A breathing machinery), injecting liquid madness
|
(into my veins)
|
In a torturing pain
|
Damaging my mechanics with synthetic,
|
corroding rains
|
|
In chambers of future science, my liquid crystal eyes
|
Recall an old man, describing me something called dawn
|
Acid substances from lab keep working on my brain
|
To realize that the Earth forgot what the Sun was
|
|
My son forgive me, forgive me now
|
And take my sorrow to what once were skies
|
The scent of sadness through falling rain
|
I can't run from the graves, ghosts of our past
|
|
-----------------
|
L'Epoque Noire (March The 7th 12973 A.D.)
|
| Novembre |
