كلمات In This World

Being fed with feathers of dead birds Dead wings are feeding me with desire to fly I'm sick of earthness, I'm thinking of thoughts Which faded away in my mind upon a time I've got the right to feel myself how I feel I'm falling asleep flying In front of my eyes the faces are flashing That didn't recognize me in this world There's no space for injuries and doubts If these are my last thoughts When all is running faster and faster Being fed with feathers of died birds Their cold blood's forcing me to escape I'm sick of all that isn't sacred I'd dying flying shot by eternity In front of my eyes the faces are flashing That didn't mean anything to me in this world