Из альбома: The Anatomy of Melancholy

Come now to me
From this hell you've seen
Lost to the sea

I have seen you grieve

Your tears have torn
Shot down in your wars
Weather the storm
I've lived through them all

The broken, the poor
Have been given more
They see the dawn
As their masters mourn

They bleed they fall
So few hear my call
I am the door
I would gather all

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