Funeral Moth - Polar

Текст:

Every man has a plague, a leech in our heart
Polar minds, sleepless night comes the horde of feast
No wonder, consider the stifling men,
Yet empty soul with no purpose
As I watch the birds leave the nest,
Horizon show new faces

You have nowhere to go back to
No reasoning can ease the moment
Seeing you talking to the other side,
Above the flickering light
Reconstruction is inevitable
I fell into it, and falls asleep

This moment is temporal,
Everything you have done will all be forgiven,
Until then, I will be in void
Longing for the moon to light my face