Wine In My Hand کے بول

They're sleeping through the ages Faces bare of names Remembrance ever lies At the Bosom of the insane Death's cold embrace Across the restless seas Unfolding the wish to forget The eyes of the deceased Thirst for the wine in my hand Third from the sun The heart of death A thought for fake desires Starving trough the night Engulfed in an earthbound fire Left all alone among the dances and cries They seed all the hate Within the shade of sights