No-man's land, North, in the 30. of Aug
We're exactly out of "now style"
We're not on the west, and we are out of the rest
So could you take a bit down?
We slip that journey, and if no-one's turning
You will have no place, could you hide
It's you gonna' feel, and it's heavy for real
So you have to worrie 'bout!
The true ain't real
What liar I've been
You're not belong there
You cannot go nowhere
Outbrake of true
Don't believe that sooth
They can't take my trust, and your feelings become rust
Ain't fly fast, and don't leave alone last!
Incoming Saint
Can't be go on!
We are not the same
We come from below!
Oh, you knoe'...
The true ain't real
What hateful I've been
Cannot accept you're on the floor
This is a sign of the hore
We don't know, what's in our hands
Say some for me!
You can't touch me!
Incoming Saint
Can't be go on!
We are not the same
We come from below!
I would take of my skin, and make a try!
I want out, and don't care, if your mouth is cry!
I would take of my skin, and make a try!
I will not, and don't care, if your mouth is cry!
Incoming Saint
Can't be go on!
We are not the same
To Come From Below!