Текст песни
Our eyes persuaded to be blind, for him who knows, there s a whisper on the stairways
It s seven stairways to the room where we belong, our steps injure the dust
There s a whisper on the stairways, our eyes persuaded to be blind, for him we cannot find
There s a hundred open doors, our eyes persuaded to be blind, there s a whisper in the darkness
You know we cannot fly, you know we cannot fly
And watch with orphan eyes, there s a hundred open doors
Your seventh son, gleaming eyes on the corridor watching every single step
Our steps injure the dust, in every second floor
for him who knows
There s a question in the darkness, your seventh sister s lover s gonna come, we fill the rooms with fake calmness
Your seventh sister s lover s gonna come, we try to fill the void with indifference
Your seventh sister s lover s gonna come, your seventh son
you know we cannot fly
Your seventh sister s lover s gonna come, for him who knows Eden, there s a hundred open doors
you know you cannot fly
There s a hundred open doors, we try to fill the void with indifference, and watch with orphan eyes
For him we cannot find, you know all room is infinate Eden, there s a question in the darkness
It s seven stairways to the room where we belong, for him who knows
there s a whisper on the stairways
there s a hundred open doors
There s a hundred open doors, you know all room is infinate Museum, and we forget what we came here for
we fill the rooms with fake calmness
For him who is, there s a hundred open doors, we try to fill the void with indifference
gleaming eyes on the corridor watching every single step
Gleaming eyes on the corridor watching every single step, and we forget what we came here for, our eyes persuaded to be blind
It s seven stairways to the room where we belong, it s seven stairways to the room where we belong
For him we cannot find, you know we cannot fly
There are hundred traps, you know we cannot fly
Your seventh son, there s a whisper in the darkness
it s seven stairways to the room where we belong
and watch with orphan eyes
your seventh son
we fill the room with obscure relatives in every second floor
There s a question in the darkness, there are hundred traps Museum, there s a whisper in the darkness
There s a question in the darkness, it s seven stairways to the room where we belong
and watch with orphan eyes
You know you cannot fly, it s seven stairways to the room where we belong
There are hundred traps, we fill the room with obscure relatives in every second floor, our steps injure the dust
And we forget what we came here for, you know we cannot fly, we fill the rooms with fake calmness
You know we cannot fly, you know all room is infinate
Our steps injure the dust, for him who is
There s a hundred open doors, your seventh son Museum, your seventh son