Tekst piosenki:
When the old ghost of suicide
creeps slowly back in to your mind
then everything is bleak and blurred,
down here in the short-sighted world.
yet, this time i have to insist
on the sharpness of the things i missed.
this once so loyal friend
he's not that welcome anymore.
white, fragile porcelain-boy,
some minor things shall be left unsaid.
yes, you share the strongest desire for beauty
as like all the "enchanted" you are
more than blessed with it.
The body is a prison-cell
that like child needs
to be washed and fed.
these are just two of the things
that i have a tendency to forget.
the heavy smell of rotting flowers
is chanting through the prison doors.
We kiss the dying world goodbye
and leave it in good hands at the morgue.
well, on the second day of excavation,
tell me, what did you expect to find?
be careful when you scratch the surface,
'cause we all have a dog to exercise.
we are not lovers, we are the likers.
we are merely hands and shake
there are just four from the list
of the numberless things
of which we 're still afraid.
we are not familiar with the state
of (y)our decay.
because this is not our line,
it is not really our trade.
all we know is that our feet are cold
and that our sticky hands are wet
and that we 're here to bring your tidings
straight from the choir of dead.
look at the boy
oh, he really suffers
he's caught in fear and its distress
there's no point in looking at him
for answers
because he is a stranger here himself.
The body is a prison-cell
that like child needs
to be washed and fed
these are just two of the things
that i have a tendency to forget.
The body is a prison-cell
that like child needs
to be washed and fed
these are just two of the things
that i have a tendency to forget.
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