Tekster:
Your Shapeless Beauty My Swan Song

believers, Holding your arms like a cross to be adored. You drawn my essence, My breath was yours And yours were my dreams... You crucified me, in agony

beauty Of my pathetic reflection in the dusty mirror. I behold the void, my emptiness, the hollow shape of my futility. When I face my life, I feel the

know I am not The kind that you'll try to understand! Living in a dreamland is not my aim, My eyes are open wide on my fate. From the day I was born I

your so called wisdom Wolves are not yours My pain is yours Until the end of time Wolves are not yours I am your curse Until the end of night 7 visions