Birds In Row Word Of Astaroth
Passive complainers are travellers with no memories. They
put down their bags and show us their sore feet. But the
question is: would a hot bath make them shut their mouths
? They've got time to complain but no seconds to change.
Living criticism never lighting the weight of this heavy
sky which will end breaking our fragile necks. It's time
to light the sky, but tonight everyone's complaining.
Subversively crying with their hands in their pockets. I
saw smiles between their undending grimaces and it may
betray any kind of inner pleasure. I don't listen to you
if your only solution's to get high on pills on every
disillusion. I don't understand you if your choice is to
wait for that train to come straight to your face.
There's one world where one word could have made things
live and move from the most static state. Engrave it on
your cold desperate heart, and start looking for a
change. Nevermind the way you find to wake up, it should
always be fine. I'll scream you the word of astaroth, I'm
searching for the light. Aemaeth.
