My thoughts, which are simply read
by some creatures of the night
The words which were simply said
trough the shadows of delight
This anger which I can't avoid
is burning me inside
Ancient passion which was destroyed
by a legion: Letal fight.
Ever time I think of thee
Many knives stab into my flesh
the picture which I refuse to see
gives me pleasure trough dirty cash
I'm just like a dream
but I haven't seen
passion, love or delight
trough the shadows of the night
But I do see our spirits
when I hear these lyrics
They're the magic of your soul
and compose the whole
of everything which I do love:
You're my sweetest dove.
If I've done anything wrong
and I crossed the paths which are long
I hope to do everything right
cause the rhyme says delight
Uppercase, crossed words, read around
talk to much, say so many, say it loud
But my soul had no meaning
inside this poor short burnt being
But I insist, I do press the same key
that I need you, the interior of myself I see.
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