Vārdi: Tiamat. Commandments. Cold Seed.

:
What heals our snowblind weary eyes
When all start are slain by fiery skies
And every word upon your spiraling cross
Is but a mislead sun, a bitter loss

Inject us out of here

All I asked for was a little love
But from my hands flew the maiden dove
While clouds like cotton snowwhite sheep
Still calm beside their shepherd sleep

Inject us out of here