Life
The world is a battle to life or death.
This crusade 'till the end of times will become victorious when the gods have chosen their conqueror.
When will this quest be ended?
Waiting, waiting 'till the times have come to take us away to paradise.
Faces, staring at me from above the mountains, just to take my love away from me.
Bells ringing, the old man on the street says goodbye but little does he know when he gets killed by the flower of death.
Dogs barking at me when I pass my old school. Now I know that the gods have chosen. We will never be alone again.
Happiness flies through the sky before it gets caught in the web of life. A big applause, cheers to their idol, calling out for more.
Nobody will ever see the light again, except for those who can escape to the other room.
Stairs up and down, never had solid ground under their feet.
The hills open their mouths to eat us alive while we live in the valleys of our own misery.
How true can a mind be when it's distracted from reality into unconsciousness?
The life of the bird can be enlightening 'cause the creature can be free. What can become of mankind when wars and fights are victorious?
The pain cuts into our body like a knife and yet they ask us to survive? Nobody is able to understand but him, the man on the other side of the door.
So why does everybody stay in this room, while there is a whole house to discover? So why don't we start our journey and try to break through?
That door can't be locked 'cause the knife keeps on turning and kills the bird.
The old lady, who sells flowers on of death on the corner of the street, wants to know your name.
Nobody answers 'till fear runs away, reaching the mind of our mother's earth.
Then the words start flowing from all 'round and start dragging down the bird 'till it lays on the bleeding highway.
Life has won again and for a feast of friends it cuts out the heart of times.
No more will it ask us to come to its dream,
No more until life has been killed by its own destruction.
No more will it fly around, away from the web of life.
The cruel choice of our gods has made the binding to a devil's contract, not to be broken
or the angels will bring you to heaven and the messenger gives us the answer to our continuing question.
The ghost of the old man on the street says goodbye again 'cause he's now the wisest of us all,
teasing the fragile eggshell minds of our children.
He received the answer 'cause ha has broken the flew away with the bird and the man on the other side.
Stars flashing before our eyes and becoming keyholes of our minds.
Now we learn how to resist to the valleys. Stars going nowhere and all we needed was an example from the flower lady.
Loud sirens calling to gather 'round and they learn the blind world to see how black it all has been.
White sounds, reaching the door and asking us to break too.
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