In Flames Artifacts Of The Black Rain текст песни, слова песни Artifacts Of The Black Rain In Flames
In Flames - Artifacts Of The Black Rain
casting silhouettes tall to grip her white rooms
the black-clad voyeur in his black-clad masque
in the serpentine sun of tragedy basked
Stood there cursing at the soul-dead mass
with their fabled illusions, the vain dreams that passed
splinters of a life rushing by in the whirl
a lone, silent warrior in a fantasy world
He cried for night / but night could not come
so, swept in the shroud of Misanthropia he went away
and fed the empty galleries
with the artifacts of the black rain
sunken into the shadows with a dry, sardonic smile
He made the footprints a part of his heart
to rouse a sacred confrontation
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