Paroles de Wrists Of Kings

Now our blood Travels though the Veins of our History It bursts forth them Boiling black Clouds from the wrists of kings The shadow Lengthens as Time draws on its tendrils Creep into mythic cracks Blending with the light of day We see it Now before us But even so we cannot Read the lies between the lines Bring them nothing They have Made it's way The nights