Between the dead and live.
Desolate cold of the flesh.
This drops in my hands,
The blood, my tears…
Tolerate it hurts.
Intrinsic solitude.
Loneliness among company.
Show the traces of the dark side.
Of our decrepit nature.
When fail is moreover the will,
No matter how we try.
Some people have the magic,
That others never have.
Sad vision …
Days like the waves
(Desolate cold of the flesh),
Breaking in the shores of time.
In its stormy rhythm,
(Desolate cold of the flesh),
Impossible to contain …
Their emotional furrows,
Of our fragile human flesh.
Increasing day by day our
Sad vision …
Desolate cold of the flesh.
This drops in my hands,
The blood, my tears…
Tolerate it hurts.
Intrinsic solitude.
Loneliness among company.
Show the traces of the dark side.
To our decrepit nature.
When fail is moreover the will,
No matter how we try.
Some people have the magic,
That others never have.
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
Sign in to post the first listener note. Reporting stays open to everyone.