Cradle of filth - Nymphetamine
Laid to the river
Midsummer, I waved
A "V" of black swans
On with hope to the grave
And though Red September
With skies fire-paved
I begged you appear
Like a thorn for the holy ones
Cold was my soul
Untold was the pain
I faced when you left me ...
Искате да прочетете повече?
Присъединете се към нашата общност, за да получите пълен достъп до всички произведения и функции.