390 3 часа назад

Текст песни Venerea - Violets In My Hand

Venerea - Violets In My Hand слова песни




This is a story about a manA short story about the violence in his handOn automatic triggerHe ain`t used to taking shitSo no one`s giving itAnd his ego`s getting biggerHe`s scarred by his own civil warHate – he hurts the ones he hatesHe hurts the ones he loves and don`t care forThe reaper sleeps on his floorViolence, violence in his handAs a child he slept on rainy roofsSafe from his father`s cloven hoovesAnd his mother`s eyes of fireThey never figured out what it all meantThe fear of descentSo, rising from the pyre and the smokeRedeemingly soaked by the rainTo wash away the painTo loosen up the strain upon his mindHe still keeps it insideViolence, violence in his hands

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