Into Red کے بول

In the smallest hour night´s black like obsidian Straight from the depths of white tipped waves comes streams of dreams undone We tread, tired and true, from pale green to blessed blue in depths of deepest red, to the cold edge of nothingness Come see what we can be come see what others see, my track to tread, day not to dread so hard and edged blind innocence I see what we should be I see what others see, my track to tread, in deepest red ardouous test of willingness In the smallest hour night´s black like obsidian Striaght from the depths of white tipped waves comes streams of dreams undone We tread, tired and true, from pale green to blessed blue in depths of deepest red, to the cold edge of nothingness In the smallest hour night´s black like obsidian Striaght from the depths of white tipped waves comes streams of dreams undone