| I can't be, I just want to love
|
| The blood thickens, but my scar deepens
|
| A thousand things I can't get out of
|
| I can't and I can't even get started
|
| I can't be, I just want to love
|
| The blood thickens, but my scar deepens
|
| A thousand things I can't get out of
|
| I can't and I can't even get started
|
| Why I always see better in the dark
|
| Why is my cry never heard?
|
| I have to go even if I want to stay
|
| There is nothing I can do about the tunes in my head
|
| In deep waters
|
| In the nests of females
|
| In black blood
|
| In the court of pride
|
| Rising bowls of princes
|
| Behind the stars, in the empty darkness
|
| To the cold of the night, to the grave of my soul
|
| It burns but does not heat up
|
| The heart cannot be shackled by reason
|
| Snakes arrive, in pain they recognize
|
| The scales tighten, the neck strangles
|
| Fear grows and the chest squeezes
|
| The little hand does not forget
|
| It catches me again
|
| And the pain folds for a moment
|
| Can sometimes just be quiet
|
| Can't wait for the sun to go out
|
| Why in the dark I always see better
|
| In silence I hear everything
|
| In deep waters
|
| In the nests of females
|
| In black blood
|
| In the court of pride
|
| Rising bowls of princes
|
| Behind the stars, in the empty darkness
|
| To the cold of the night, to the grave of my soul
|
| It burns but does not heat up
|
| The heart cannot be shackled by reason
|
| Cold rain
|
| My face washes away
|
| But can't wash
|
| Nothing out
|
| The night is long
|
| If you are afraid of the morning
|
| In deep waters
|
| In the nests of females
|
| In deep waters
|
| In the nests of females
|
| In black blood
|
| In the court of pride
|
| Rising bowls of princes
|
| Behind the stars, in the empty darkness
|
| To the cold of the night, to the grave of my soul
|
| It burns but does not heat up
|
| The heart cannot be shackled by reason
|
| In deep waters
|
| In the nests of females
|
| The pulsating scepter of love
|
| In black blood
|
| In the court of pride
|
| Rising bowls of princes
|
| Behind the stars, in the empty darkness
|
| To the cold of the night, to the grave of my soul
|
| It burns but does not heat up
|
| The heart cannot be shackled by reason |