| When the mist of the morning falls
|
| A silence calls from the faith
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| Baying at the window of my wondering
|
| Everything is faded, growing near to the ground
|
| Hiding in a corner of the doorway
|
| The light is the fear of the shadow
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| Near the leaves where the locust leaps
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| The spider’s under the streets
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| In her catacomb museum
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| Her lovers' mausoleum
|
| With the kiss of the killing doors
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| The darkness creeps down the stairs of my vision and I feel the walls inside
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| I feel someone inside me now
|
| Everything is faded, growing near to the ground
|
| Hiding in a corner of the doorway
|
| Shadow of the world
|
| A field of locust swarming down again
|
| A field of locust swarming down
|
| Now the jackals of the nightmare
|
| Lay at the feet of the lunatics
|
| Hands through the dark are crawling over me
|
| Shadow of the world
|
| A field of locust swarming down again
|
| A field of locust swarming down
|
| A field of locust swarming down again
|
| A field of locust swarming down |