Besedila:
Novembers Doom Of Sculptured Ivy And Stone Flowers

and fire, all demons are cast away. With water and stone, the sadness drowns in vain. On thorns and glass, I'm tortured with love. In tears and blood,

: A moonlit breeze softly flows past the ancient night. Always calling out to the saints who hear nothing. Never to see the royality of age, and the

: Embrace the silence and listen to me. Our time is short and my words are pure. For every song the angels sing and for every leaf that falls, I will

: Enjoy the sunlight and ride the winds. Forever warm, for I see now, happiness facades my sorrow. This outer smile is torn by grief, and my sunlight

that remains empty and dry. Liquid from my tears that plummet for eternity, help to drown the flowers and sprout yet another cry. For all these fallen angels and