Текст песни A Dead Poem - Rotting Christ
It's
the
season
the
trees
die
The
birds
don't
sing
anymore
The
rivers
never
come
back
Nature
dies
out.
It's
the
season
the
trees
die
The
birds
don't
sing
anymore
The
rivers
never
come
back
Nature
dies
out.
Focus
tomorrow's
horizon
Sorrow
means
no
future
Cover
my
face
With
my
guilty
hands
This
tragic
future
Destinied
to
hurt
never
heal
What
end
can
save
me?
What
good
gives
me
an
end?
It's
the
season
the
trees
die
The
birds
don't
sing
no
more
The
rivers
never
come
back
Nature
dies
out.
It's
the
season
the
trees
die
The
birds
don't
sing
no
more
The
rivers
never
come
back
Nature
dies
out.
First
passion
Now
is
lost
A
dramatic
dead
story
I
killed
all
I
have
My
sadness
- Translated
into
madness
I
spell
meaningless
words
A
poem
for
sorrow
and
death
Nothing
is
innocent
Nothing
is
fair
I
keep
wondering
I
keep
wondering
How
did
I
end
up
like
this?
Focus
tomorrow's
horizon
Sorrow
means
no
future
Cover
my
face
With
my
guilty
hands
This
tragic
future
Destinied
to
hurt
never
heal
What
end
can
save
me?
What
good
gives
me
an
end?
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