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• Artiste: Ulcerate
• Titre: Martyr Of The Soil
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Autrement, nous ne pouvons les corriger pas! Merci pour votre aide.
Here we exist upon the cliff tops Exhausted and empty Sneering into the darkness below Wet palms, coppery and thick Lines of red to mark our progress But to what end? We are a part of this plague Unclean and nai"ve We climb upon the cross To be crowned? This will deaden all but the brightest lights And I personify the black I am despair The futility and the frustration These two hands make liars of us all Denial and disaster are mine Step up to the gallows, defeated and lost Fall away Resign yourself to this faithless leap For there can be no half measures And the noose is already around our necks Jerk awake with the revelation And dangle above the maggots The twine exists as the separator Through suffocation and sodden eyes She will not hold