Letras:VII Arcano. Inner Deathscapes. Of Suicidal Age.

Melted in the cage twisted and torn
In a suicidal age like stones we are born.

Approaching the winter of the century
Vision slaughtered by the filtering sunset
Descending in the halls of the blind
Terminus dawning near
Withering, passive links
Agonizing in the age of nonsense mental inferno

Death and sleep, winged sisters in equal genes, so fast and silent
Blacking air, turning the day, wheezes are closing in

Our structures condemned
To enjoy emptiness
Circle of repression leads to
Inorganic sights of a dead screen
Downfall in the resounding echo of ages - enter oblivion

Eroding you'll see the fall of dignity
Suicidal flowers from a ghost bride. Never so real

Death and sleep, winged sisters in equal genes, so fast and silent
Blacking air, turning the day, circuits are blowing with plea

Melted in the cage. Twisted and torn.
In a suicidal age like stones we are born

Burning is the seed; the fall is your only need
Eroding you'll see the fall of your dignity
Suicidal flowers from a ghost bride. Now you hear
...and see