| <Silver Ocean Storm> page <Architect Of The Dying Sun> album page |
The Tidal RedGot a weapon today. no need to run. no need to quail awayPoint my fist at the sun. curse at the sky. boiling the blood in my veins Cant understand a word that you say. my language is murder and flame Hungry for flesh i look to the west and i throw myself into the fray Step up. face me. don't quake. don't fail I wait. racing. i stand derailed Cant see. hating. i fight myself Bodies gather below with nothing to show. no kind of solace Cooking red in the heat. victory sweet. vacant i stand drained Bathe in sanguine delight. yearning for night. creeping up slowly Clean the grit from my wounds. whistle a tune. plunder I care nothing for this Hell can wait one more day Spitting blood to the wind I have fed well off hatred Yet again i pretend that the end justifies Makes it right Go to sleep do not dream don't pay heed to the screams of the dead in your head Step up. face me. don't quake. don't fail I wait. racing. i stand derailed Cant see. hating. i fight myself Bodies gather below with nothing to show. no kind of solace Cooking red in the heat. victory sweet. vacant i stand drained Bathe in sanguine delight. yearning for night. creeping up slowly Clean the grit from my wounds. whistle a tune. plunder I care nothing for this Hell can wait one more day Spitting blood to the wind I have fed well off hatred Bodies gather below with nothing to show. no kind of solace Cooking red in the heat. victory sweet. vacant i stand drained Bathe in sanguine delight. yearning for night. creeping up slowly Clean the grit from my wounds. whistle a tune. plunder I care nothing for this Hell can wait one more day Spitting blood to the wind I have fed well off hatred Yet again i pretend that the end simplifies Yet again i pretend that the end justifies Makes it right Go to sleep do not dream don't pay heed to the screams of the dead in your head All the dead in your head |