It’s so strange the way you look at me!
You look at me like if I was a mirror!
Why? Can’t you see your own demons?
Mine wore feed by a broken heart…
It doesn’t mater if you believe or not,
Because they exist, they are here!
They are made of fierce steel,
Forged in hell and tempered by night!
They grow stronger and stronger…
In the night they turn in to nightmares!
Wend the sun shine they become dementia!
They scorn with the lie and by the lie!
They are me and I’m not them!
In the end nothing of this mater,
The only thing that mater is…
11 janeiro 2007
How long?
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