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Thränenkind
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The Blood on Our Hands
I am a wanderer. Blind amidst the twisted trails of night. In search for light you are doomed to die in darkness.
Golden are only the reflections of the sinking sun In the windows of their postmodern concrete caskets.
Gigantic monsters cough blackest death. Self created downfall – a cynical cycle. Utilitarian sickness within us all. The pillars of our society:
更多更详尽歌词 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔镜歌词网 Bow down to the new gods Wires wrapped around our necks Send your prayers to the heavens wait for their response and despair.
Mental regression - social suicide Toxic depression - global ecocide We breath with cancer in our lungs. We'll die with plastic in our mouths.
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