Текст песни Cockatrice - FINAL FANTASY
Oh
basilisk,
oh
cockatrice
The
prophet
was
a
child
of
flesh
Stolen
from
the
family
creche
And
hidden
in
the
wilderness
A
statue
on
a
steepletop
The
prophet's
now
a
man
of
rock
The
hundred
thousand
in
his
flock
Will
gather
underneath-a
him
Owen
and
I
walk
among
the
plots
I'm
guided
by
the
slightest
touch
With
his
fingertips
upon
my
neck
I'm
made
to
be
a
marionette
He
asks
me
how
I'd
rather
go
To
burn
in
the
fire
or
freeze
with
the
snow
Well
I'd
rather
die
painful
and
alone
Than
be
a
prophet
turned
to
stone
So:
Owen,
Owen
protect
me
From
a
life
everlasting
Owen,
Owen
protect
me
From
a
life
everlasting
Внимание! Не стесняйтесь оставлять отзывы.