Paroles de Seasons...

An attempt to crystalise reality By my hand it is smashed Thus you struggle to fit the pieces together Your train of thought has crashed! Feeble wretch, fight for your mind Muscles begin to tense Panic sets in, madness begins Struggle for fragments of sense Your search for truth has led you here To the place of your demise Now locked into eternal fear The scales fall from your eyes Time warps into a cycle This moment will never cease Forever to relice the hatred You feebly cry for peace Weakling! The chronocrators own your days They are fuelled by your poisoned soul And vengeance for you meddling ways