A tes amours, a toi L'ivresse est la L'Absinthe pour l'absent A tes amours, sante Sans toi. Y-a-t-il autre chose a faire? Jeter de ton ile comme une
can you not see What you're doing to me? No Absinthe Ahh... Mr, can you see? Sister, can you hear? Now I, now I can feel The end coming near Absinthe
croix On en sortira pas. Dans le noir du venin Ce qu'on est ce qu'on feint, Dans le bleu de l'absinthe, Chez les putes chez les saintes, On se
the time is vanishing The time of the blue of the sky rips It's coming to make the way To the star of the death Absinth star of the death Absinth star
Il mondo e cosi privo d'amore, io disimparo ad odiare in fondo se perdi il controllo non fai niente di male io ricerco lo scontro ma conosco la pace
The bitter grapes we have took And drugs in this emerald juice Shining as flowers in morning Abloom on our graves Should we ever wake again From sleep
Ho deciso di tracciare la linea del mio desiderio lungo la tua bianca schiena, come posso abbandonare quel gelsomino che ti presi? Sembra dita nella bufera
Oversættelse: Zella Mayzell. Min Kære Malurt.
: This is where I am This is who I am Some will say conditioned Some will say naive This is where I am This is who I am Some will soon fall victim To
Ho deciso di tracciare la linea del mio desiderio lungo la tua bianca schiena, come posso abbandonare quel gelsomino che ti presi? Sembra dita nella
Posizione eretta instabile movimenti lenti il tuo tempo non va in avanti hai perso col sociale per sempre navighi in un mondo inesistente e troppo
In The dusty Kiev streets it is deadly fucking grey, And the voices on the radio all speak of prophesy? But the wormwood in the air left a bitter taste
This is where I am This is who I am Some will say conditioned Some will say naive This is where I am This is who I am Some will soon fall victim To
1.А я не знаю почему, но меня тянет, Меня так тянет, ох, как меня тянет, И я всё время пропадаю ночами, ночами ночами ... Всё это было ни раз и,
Pour the emerald wine Into crystal glasses We will touch the divine Through kisses catharsis Let us pitch to the seven-year itch Of the ultra-decadent