Sweat on the brow runs over faces made of snow There comes a time in life when death may come too slow
Honesty in the necrology The offspring smear your name in print
You have waited far too long But Spring is set in bloom You have conquered love inside Yet sorrow is your doom
The debts are long since paid, inheritance is set Still agitation reels inside, lest you forget Lest you forget
At sunrise Friday morning A haven for your sins The written dedication Etched into your skin
Time won't heal the wounds you bare Between old pride and desperate prayers
Time won't heal any wounds you bare A set few years of your life are stolen Light cast on the obvious Behold the white when it's faded golden
A stranger's truth holds no water here But soon we may have learned Dead sympathy, a aversion proceeds
A voice lives in your chest That comforts wary thoughts Yet the brook is still too wide To bridge the gap you've sought
Honesty in the necrology The offspring smear your name in print
You trade your vices every day religiously A pack of vultures wait for everyone to see
You gave away too much, a harness on your kin For any transgressions never mirrored mortal sin Mortal sin
You're still alone
The day in zenith now You made it through the night Voice of perdition Came and went far out of sight
Compositor: Mikael Lars Akerfeldt (Mikael Lars Aakerfeldt) (STIM)Editores: Communion Music Ab, Kobalt Music Pub Ltd (ABRAMUS)ECAD verificado obra #22875292 em 13/Mai/2024