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| Ve VAŠEM prostoru redakce Totemu nezodpovídá za obsah jednotlivých příspěvků. |
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Sweet pretty melody is all they left behind
the bitter taste of their lonely tales fills our soul with pain
then our hearts shall turn to stone, so we've lost our mind
no more blood but rotten thoughts floating through our vein
With all our sins we come to be
monsters fools and cranks
our spirits we can never see
are drowning near the banks
Who is here to stand alone, abandoned from the bad
raise up high his shredded flag, walk into the roar?
angry hates of vicious man proclaim his longing mad
and when he leaves the crimson fields, they drown him in the moor.
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