1. |
Weatherman
03:09
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So many things seep through my skin
I am left behind and wondering
But it's crystal clear, too obvious
I am sad to tears, you burned those books
Therefore words between the lines - written down in empty nights- are hollow shine
I've got the taste of poison on the surface of my tongue
My throat is laced up by your hands
I am choking on this lump of coagulated blood
Tinsel light in summer nights
The open field and good music
And a piece of pink sweets and all my best friends around me
But I know that it's a fake like the changing of seasons
All the problems stay the same
Only the weather is changing
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2. |
Strings
03:56
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You fix my bones with coffin nails
You took a sledge to beat them in
You wind my neck with rusted strings
I am your little marionette
I do whatever you make me do
But be aware the times will change
My pearly eyes are never closed
I'm never ever giving in
We are the ones who pull the strings with beaten hearts
You are the ones who never listen
We seem so small but we are tall
When we unite we never fall
We are the ones who pull the strings with beaten hearts
Hey Sir, you are the captain of a grounded, moulded boat
You are still screaming your commands
But waves and crew are just mirage
Hey man, still counting medals of a war you never fought
Proudly polished clipped on skin to keep the madness still alive
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3. |
From South to North
03:08
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Everything broke down
Down to the ruins of this nasty little town
I stand between the wreckage
It turns out that I am not alone
I am the lost not found
Can you save me
It's crumbling from your crown
But still you save me
It's not save in the inside of my house
So I keep moving heading from the South to the North
Through the valleys that are blown up by there bombs
I move on
I move on
The last road isn't paved with stones of gold
It's bearing up my grief, my tears, my fault
The doors of heaven
We must protect them
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4. |
Portraits of the past
02:55
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The raindrops bring all love to rust
My heart is wrapped in woolen trust
Bring this ship to land
I don’t pretend to be okay
And your voice still fills the halls
And your pictures grace the walls
Every touch of you is still seeping through my skin
I feel traced by ghosts no matter where I am
Look, I’m standing on my feet
But still it’s you who carries me
You were the builder of my mind
You wrote the contracts that I signed
I can hardly hold a pen
And your smell still tickles in my nose
And your mottled hands enclose a rose
And a drop of blood is dripping from the thorns
I conserve it so I save my burst soul
I just want to get through the god damn day
And lie down to bed and be able to say:
“I did well, I am decent and I don’t expect divine reward
I feel so bad about the things I couldn’t change
I could say it loud, taken in by myself
I never really had a chance to be involved into this plan
There might has never been a plan
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5. |
Gates to the Netherworld
02:33
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This panic is your death and a sewer for the pain
Every day is a fight
It’s driving you insane
You lost the easy way to live when you were still a child
It sounds like a cliché but it’s what’s going on inside
You give your best to manage every day
You are longing for a happy end but lost to pray
It is salt to my wounds to watch the fallen fail
And the rich become richer within just a day
This fear of your own death is based inside your head
And the fear leaving your lips get whispered by the dead
With a sledge and a pick they grave it on your chest
And the scars of this torture get burned with your rest
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