Eleven Lights - Nocturne
текст песни

Nocturne

wake, sun has died
wake, morrow's thawing
numbers and things
are illusive and killing themselves now

i will love your fingers and
i'll be
your wounded snow
like a snow
in snow

there's only death
noble as Chopin
lonely in spaces
sadness in tales

i will love your strangeness
i'll be
your wounded snow
like a snow
in snow