كلمات Behind

You’re walking behind the door Your lips are running across the door A shiver and silence You’re breathing, I feel, it’s slow But soon the sigh becomes a storm A dark pure rain comes A true dark tear drops Swallow pain Sliding on silky wails Painting hopes On my skin your nails The door we burn The wax strains on our beings Lines on my face are broken years And the cross forsakes Last bottle, awaking An early taste of you Last time, in bloom Hollowed the pain Sweating on sweet wails Carving hopes Under my skin your nails The door we broke down The wax strains on our beings Lines on my face are broken years And the cross forsakes Last bottle, awaking An early taste of you Last time, in bloom A disappeared, used and naked Christ Tomorrow maybe won’t rescue from oblivion and icons Alone with you I eascape from the shelter Fragile shelter of the sneaking solace The wax strains on our beings Lines on my face are broken years