Текст песни Poets Of Dirt

The gone staying by me Feeling disease, crying sun Soil adorning me, preparing to grow Fever, disgust, dear sigh Bewatching the truth, morals to break Catch soon the breeze, immortals And if my tears were only joyful I would better rest in silence Instead of writing down my claims To pleasure such a lonely road A sombre tangle to disclose The damned poets of dirt Lake fulfilled with sand, prayers of lies Wishing disease, unholy blue Is covering meand our sins Forever gone, trapped in life