paroles de chanson The Fevered Circle - At the Gates
Each
day
a
mournful
pity
Life
looks
upon
you
with
scorn
Hopes
flee,
visions
elude
As
your
feeble
breath
is
torn
Six
sinister
thorns
of
beauty
The
claws
of
the
nondivine
Our
right
to
breathe
Our
right
to
bleed
Forever
denied
What
some
seek
in
the
depths
of
the
unknown
Need
not
be
sought
so
far
Concealed
it
lurks
behind
The
truth
of
what
we
are
Each
day
a
fevered
circle
Life
looks
upon
you
with
scorn
Six
sinister
claws
of
darkness
Strip
your
flesh
to
the
bone
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