Caliban - Tyranny of small misery

Tekst :

The wake up means walking on the edge.
Wrong desicions running through my veinse Immortal sorrow scars on my soul.
Rejected and trapped in myself.
Black velvet was the gift of the time.
Nothing left to loose.
Nothing to believe hands tied feet chained.
Hidind behind shadows of anger.
To wake up means walking on the edge.
But I often feel that misery.
Is the most important part of being happy!

Inne utwory

  • Antidote
  • The awakening
  • For
  • Sycamore dreams
  • Sick of running away
  • Song about killing
  • Goodbye
  • Complex
  • Arena of concealment
  • Detect your liberty
  • I see the falling sky
  • Senseless fight
  • Fire is my witness
  • In my heart
  • Supervision until death
  • Losowe utwory

    Empty walls

    Your empty walls
    Your empty walls
    Pretentious adventures
    Dismissive apprehention
    Dont waste your time
    On coffins today
    When we decline
    From the confines of our mind
    Dont waste your time
    On coffins today

    Dont you see their bodies burning
    Desolate and full of yearning
    Dying of anticipation
    Choking from intoxication
    Dont you see their bodies burning
    Desolate and full of yearning
    Dying of anticipation
    Choking from intoxication
    I...

    Going nowhere

    Somebody somewhere your life s going nowhere,
    Somebody somewhere your heart s growing colder,
    Somebody somewhere your game s nearly over,
    Somebody somewhere your life...
    ...

    Rosa

    Ai se nao me desse o seu amor
    O que seria de mim
    Deus meu
    O que seria de mim
    Ai se não me desse o seu calor
    O que seria do frio meu
    O que seria de mim

    Rosas violetas representam
    O sincero carinho
    Que tenho por você
    Já que a solidão apavora
    Por favor vá embora
    E me deixe aqui
    A...

    Tyranny of small misery

    The wake up means walking on the edge.
    Wrong desicions running through my veinse Immortal sorrow scars on my soul.
    Rejected and trapped in myself.
    Black velvet was the gift of the time.
    Nothing left to loose.
    Nothing to believe hands tied feet chained.
    Hidind behind shadows of anger.
    To wake up means walking on the edge.
    But...

    Bottoming out

    I m cruising fast on a motorcycle
    down this winding country road
    And I pass the gravel on the foot of the hill
    where last week I fell off

    There s still some oil by the old elm tree
    and a dead squirrel that...