| You’re a storm of secret bombs
|
| Falling noiseless from the clouds
|
| On this land of trees and farms
|
| Growing slowly in the sand
|
| Sounds of prayers, sacrifices
|
| Incense burning in a pipe
|
| Design of God in coded works
|
| Dogs are yelling at the sun
|
| Trees start to bleed, clouds turn to coal
|
| Night seems to talk to every wall
|
| Weeping up the crowd a wave of sounds
|
| Scared everyone
|
| Hovering slowly in the vines
|
| See them suffering when they smile
|
| Everyday they feel the same
|
| Kids are running out of time
|
| Organ pipes made of bones
|
| Growing slowly in the ground
|
| A noise is coming down
|
| A fear made of pain
|
| Blood runs from the seeds, runs from the clouds
|
| Blood runs from the seeds, runs from the clouds
|
| Covering fields and everyone
|
| Weeping up the crowd a wave of sounds
|
| Scared everyone
|
| Everybody’s lost in the sun
|
| Once again I’ve enough
|
| Walking pale and lost
|
| Everybody’s lost in the sun |