The writing times have been more often mental flashbacks
Remember me of who we were I say to myself
It had to be like that what you did right before, is now done
When we cross the line
I hardly hope we can jump
Evading this deep void
Removing all the dust
Colours are losing brightness
Sound is deteriorating
My taste suffers alteration
Like a pure degeneration
When we cross the line
I hardly hope we can jump
Evading this deep void
Removing all the dust
Colours are losing brightness
Sound is deteriorating
My taste suffers alteration
When we cross the line
I hardly hope we can jump
Evading this deep void
Removing all the dust
Colours are losing brightness
Sound is deteriorating
My taste suffers alteration
Like a pure degeneration