III Testo
Testo III
The beauty made me bitter.
The warmth has made me cold.
The storm has made me silent.
Love has made me hate.
Colours of a grey existence.
Sounds of a silent past, tear me apart.
A silent acceptation of bitterness,
From the shadow where I stand.
An ash-grey sky drenched with many questions.
An unintruded cycle it is it was it will be.
The warmth has made me cold.
The storm has made me silent.
Love has made me hate.
Colours of a grey existence.
Sounds of a silent past, tear me apart.
A silent acceptation of bitterness,
From the shadow where I stand.
An ash-grey sky drenched with many questions.
An unintruded cycle it is it was it will be.
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