| Pointing downwards towards the stars
|
| With a rythm unnatural
|
| A union lost to the gun
|
| The three in me, the two in you
|
| To the slaughterhouse give peace and harmony
|
| Just look but do not touch, come taste the mercury
|
| I’m sleeping in my care, a liquid prisoner
|
| Four limbs, one single head, thus we are circular, so…
|
| Pain should not, should not be wasted
|
| Pain should not, should not be wasted
|
| Pain should not, should not be wasted
|
| Pain should not, should not be wasted
|
| Pain
|
| Vulnerable when in reverse
|
| The leather apron ripped to shreds
|
| Nothing’s beautiful and everything is hurt
|
| Undo the wounds add up in hideous winter lair
|
| May the gentle work to the second rule
|
| On a perfect scale change is radical, so…
|
| Pain should not, should not be wasted
|
| Pain should not, should not be wasted
|
| Pain should not, should not be wasted
|
| Pain should not, should not be wasted
|
| Pain
|
| To the slaughterhouse give peace and harmony
|
| Just look but do not touch, come taste the mercury
|
| I’m sleeping in my care, a liquid prisoner
|
| Four limbs, one single head, thus we are circular
|
| Pain should not, should not be wasted
|
| Pain should not, should not be wasted
|
| Pain should not, should not be wasted
|
| Pain should not, should not be wasted
|
| Nothing’s beautiful and everything is hurt
|
| Undo the wounds add up in hideous winter lair
|
| May the gentle work to the second rule
|
| On a perfect scale change is radical |