The spring, like a dress of an imigrant, was of course made without love
I want you with the strength of your fragrance
I wet you with the bloody tears of violence...of violence...of violence...
When your hands come softly around my feelings
I fall in a s**y maze of needings...of needings...of needings...
Army of my giants love fights inside every ones
And wins and losses all at once
I bother you to understand
Your gloomy vice will take you away till the end
Once again we should never trust our fever
And in time, we could mix our love in a river...in a river...in a river...
Army of my giants love fights inside every ones
And wins and losses all at once
I bother you to understand
Your gloomy vice will take you away till the end
Army of my giants love fights inside every ones
And wins and losses all at once
Army of my giants love fights inside every ones
And wins and losses all at once
I bother you to understand
That any strong desire is always insane
End:
Black vulture gets in your bitter cells;
In agonizing yells;