Is my death and I write my life.
There's the sunflying slow
in the soul that cries the frost.
And I see that the wind
embrace him like Christ to the cross.
He embraces it.
He flies in.
My soul that cries this frost.
I forever be the garden of tears,
the Eden of tears,
Live but in this grave,
where casket of pf flesh is a promise o freedom
inside its away horizons.
The sentimental long face of crystal ocean,
by my hate was been ride it all
the where somber tears sleep,
and my life is dwell, dwell, dwelling.
Crying frost. Crying frost.
I'm immortal.
Crying frost. Crying frost.
I'm immortal.
The sentimental long face of crystal ocean,
by my hate was been ride it all
the where somber tears sleep,
and my life is dwell, dwell, dwelling.
I wirte my life.
There's the sunflying slow
in the soul that cries the frost.
And I see that the wind
embrace him like Christ to the cross.
He embraces it.
He flies in.
My soul that cries this frost.
And my life is dwell, dwell, dwelling.
Crying frost. Crying frost.
I'm immortal.
Crying frost. Crying frost.
I'm immortal.
