Из альбома: That Within Blood Ill-Tempered
The salt from my eyes burn
As does the acid of my tongue.
~
Might a tempest releive me of sound and sight.
Might I unearth the hatchet
And put it to proper use.
My hand is poised, and in fury.
Only thunder gives me rest.
~
Dare me to breathe
When I cant catch my breath.
Sway my temper's balance.
~
Only thunder gives me rest.