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.

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