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• Artiste: Siderartica
• Titre: Antland
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Waves spit on my memories and flies lick remains like salt on cliff swallowing desolation's wan stains and skies without any prayin'. You have generated just this: eyes which float on cages and black tones, settlin' on to paltry customs while humans are going to dance. Now you're just the king of the silly ones crown slips out of your head as if it were snow So you're just the lord of the losers and your sceptre gives in without a lament. Frenzied worker ants all lined up bow in front of ghosts an' gods, heavily made-up golems smiling from rotating chariots. But a shadow comes in breaking through the wall of truth while that fire is eating its flesh passing through roads and nerves. Well you're just the king of the foolish one crown slips out of your head as if it were snow Oh you're just the lord of the wretched and your sceptre gives in without a lament.