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Текст песни Mourning Beloveth - Narcissistic Funeral

Mourning Beloveth - Narcissistic Funeral слова песни




Opened my veins yesterday and poured in the twilightwith its dead promises. Nothing makes sense in an imaginaryworld that no one can touch. In the strange hours I dream of evenings under moonrise and of fashioned ideals before they could turnand go, had seeped their treachery into my widowed summers. Is this my lover, this face of death? I recoil tothe unmoving view.The soft, voiceless emotions escape the exhausted frame to assailtomorrows empty heaven. The dawn, with its dull smell, fills my nostrilsand the stench of a burning sun separates the hope from silent lips.There is something painful in the first spring bud of life, it tears at the insides and claws at the doors oftenderness that riseth in black forms from an obsolete graveyard.To cast my eyes on the horrors you have created or to turn and gazeat the clouds? It remains cold and dark and the painless times revel ina distant memory that only seem to trespass when the night is clear.The bitterness tastes sweet and it conjures up imagesof a narcissistic funeral that injure my dreamsnarcissistic dreamsThe wordless world bleeds to the point of despair and the failed attempts to move end in quiet massacres. Thelurid calm is a stalking mountain that eludes the perceptive eye but eventually overwhelms to send us cowering.

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