Автор: Mr. Strange

We leave the shores to see the mountains rising A distant impression growing This judgment creates the pain we hold

You are a fake, you’re broke You’re nothing that I need to feel alive But damn, this pittoresque incisions make

You’re just a clone of them Have you no way to set a fire You’re just a clone of them

Mark out the points Build the pyre Assemble different drummers Light up the fire Put on your masks And animal

Wir flogen durch den Sturm Mit schwarzer Flügelkraft Die Hoffnung im Gefieder prangt Das Federkleid pechschwarz Von Ost bis West

Umringt, nicht halb so schön Wie der Mensch auf der Kugel Am äußersten befestigt So will ich ruhen, will meine

Caught in my mind, I’m just a misfit Leave me to die, the world can’t fix it Thought I was

Fear me I am the destruction of innocence I am the violence embedded in flesh I am the pain in

A fire in the sky Ablaze the spark beyond the stars Its gleaming wings will cut their way Through the