LYRIC

The knife cuts the warm flesh.
A cry, bloody cry.
An already long time routine.
Machines bring the daily noise.

A sound of thousand victims.
A sound of death.
There's no one in the dark.
There's no one in the dark.

Thousand litres of blood.
Running every day.
Thousand souls.
Sent away…

I won't close, close my eyes.
I can see, I can see.

Added by

Admin

SHARE

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

ADVERTISEMENT