Sirens In Filth-Novembre

Bitterness blows in the heart Like chilly draughts in the hall Of a crystal castle Lost among clouds made of gold Those anxieting visions Images behind frozen windows Make my eyes bleed Ebony blood When the silvergray fluid shall crack reality＇s walls Mixing with blood and filth as sirens swimming in pitch When the sweet arcades of these desperate our owns Trickle down upon yhe misery of this dead everyday life Like pitch on your wings Like a child lost in a war Like dark paint upon a shiny picture Like dirty sperm on a toy And whwn the new star will shine of it＇s own black And there will be nowhere to shelter Maybe they＇ll understand who we are What we＇ll always cry for