Из альбома: Wasted Sky
Clouds blue, blur, and burn
horizons roll in fast
emerge to peek,
through a battered plastic mask
convenience, contrivance
glass, and steel recesses
black leather, and silk
sweet bleeding heart excesses
Not to be, it is not to be
This is your choice, not to be
do what thou wilt
called by a name, a dream
and so you are the chosen one
but nothing, nothing seems
give away something
something, something means
no cracking skull, black light lies
bursting at the seams
Not to be, it is not be
Buried alive, not to be
dawn- a rout of doubt
blood circle of alibi's
the veil is vein, discreet the shame
but for a screamed sigh
victim on consighnment
unto an angry god
crawl in the face
of your own damn odd's
Not to be, you are not to be
Dont look at me, you are noy to be
not to be, it is not to be
turn from the wall, it is not to be