Tekster: Kiss The Anus Of A Black Cat. The Firesky.

:
Under the wakeful moon,

Fire fleeing for all the stars are burnt.

Dance to the Sun.

And on a pliable field,

You'll crop well if he won't infere.

We'll dance to the Sun.



And all the world,

and you...

the Firesky.

The Firesky.



So the sky looks down,

Above our plains, bombers are roaring by.

The Cockchafer flies.

The fires are red wood.

Demon, take my hand; we left the place and ran.

And danced to the Sun.



And all the world,

and you...

the Firesky.

The Firesky.



The cacophony of sadness.

The anger is tragic.

The piercing sound of a siren.

The painful time between silence.

Do you see the angel of the enemy?

And am I longing, longing eagerly?

How all our arms fail to embrace the tree,

Notice the comfort of the thief.

The world, now, is breaking.

The seasons collapsing.

The Moondance fooled a million eyes.

The Missile betrayed a thousand lives.

The world, now, is breaking.

The seasons collapsing.

The Moondance fooled a million eyes.

The Missile betrayed a thousand lives.

This is now.



Under the wakeful moon,

Fire fleeing for all the stars are burnt.

Dance to the Sun.

These are pliable fields.

We'll crop well and he won't interfere.

We'll dance to the sun.



And all the world,

and you...

the Firesky.

The Firesky.