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In my oppressive way |
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the dreams are so distant. |
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Tormented, this is my tone. |
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I ride the cold street, |
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black smog invade my distant eyes. |
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Grass threads on your hair, |
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remember me distant landscapes. |
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Now the skin it's to old. |
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My senses can't reborn. |
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As a river we are going in indefinite point. |
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We march over the gray line, |
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this is the border of nothing, |
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the only light is the gray light. |
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Can I live this feeling? |
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Can you die for this feeling? |
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Only enslaved from the unreal colours! |
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We hate, we trust, we are gray. |
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Nothing now it's human, |
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sounds, perfumes, memories, |
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all dragged in unique purpose; |
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Cancel the light! |
