Paroles de Spinning Back The Clocks

Drag him down, That knife, slipping flee [?] That knife, slipping flee [?] Sweet dreams my dear little child I burn for touching a bead of your own mass You will be gone now forever Try to sleep one more time A spirit light comes through Silent bringer of death The cover breezed right open Come to steal the cash [?] Washed his blade over the kill (Here comes the light) Furious desertion