Из альбома: XII Faces Of Evil
The flames of grave candle
Expire as well as your life does
He was born and he was to die
Waiting for an ageless sign
The graveyard face flows over like stream of blood on these graves
Watching this
I feel the regret of the pity
The flames of candle-that's my life
While it's burning
I'm alive
But small wind
Maybe smallest one can break
The ties of the blood.