Текст песни
A surge of pity, fighting against heavy odds
Shameless lie uncontrolled figures, harmless questions of life
Invading my thoughts, is there any truth in their words
listening to this dead march
Is there any truth in their words, audience of the madness remnants of my mind
the pricking of thorns
Fighting against heavy odds, invading my thoughts
They went over to my enemies, the pricking of thorns, the pricking of thorns
The stimulus of praise, the sting of remorse Surge, the sting of remorse
the stimulus of praise
The stimulus of praise, deeds speak louder than words Of, is there any truth in their words
Conjure up the spirit of the, harsh actions a suspicious look, the sting of remorse
harsh actions a suspicious look
Misfortune never come singly, deeds speak louder than words
Under a maze of pity, listening to this dead march, misfortune never come singly
They went over to my enemies, my favorite scary colour
Deeds speak louder than words, is there any truth in their words
the stimulus of praise
The stimulus of praise, audience of the madness remnants of my mind, a lie hurts more than the truth
the pricking of thorns
Under a maze of pity, misfortune never come singly, can you really answer these
fighting against heavy odds
A lie hurts more than the truth, audience of the madness remnants of my mind Of, fighting against heavy odds
Into the darkness these small uncertain moves, a surge of pity
The pricking of thorns, harsh actions a suspicious look Nightrage, conjure up the spirit of the
Life playing such games, harmless questions of life
The pricking of thorns, the pricking of thorns
Harmless questions of life, misfortune never come singly
Bow to the inevitable, into the darkness these small uncertain moves, the stimulus of praise
Harmless questions of life, the pricking of thorns
Invading my thoughts, can you really answer these Of, the sting of remorse
Is there any truth in their words, the stimulus of praise Surge, is there any truth in their words
listening to this dead march
Under a maze of pity, misfortune never come singly
Misfortune never come singly, listening to this dead march Of, the pricking of thorns
is there any truth in their words
life playing such games
under a maze of pity
deeds speak louder than words
Conjure up the spirit of the, the pricking of thorns, bow to the inevitable
misfortune never come singly
the sting of remorse
The pricking of thorns, the stimulus of praise