Vārdi: Zao. The Funeral Of God. Psalm Of The City Of The Dead.
:
As we wait here for a sign we are greeted by the end of time, these aren't streets paved with gold, you are my everything, my soul
is growing cold
As we wait here for a sign we are greeted by the end of time, these aren't streets paved with gold, you are my everything, my soul
is growing cold
Zao
The Funeral Of God
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