Текст песни The Moth Gatherer - Utopia

Текст:

The time and gold in our hands Spectral concepts, illusive and grand Dead eyes stare at the vertical flood The bones are soaked and starts to drift The eyes of the child tells what lies ahead A spectral light touched the numb I was there when the current died An eerie glow on strange beings in a fractured world Now I stand in darkness Watching as the worlds collide I wish that I could return But I am the sun, the finite mass, And I need to burn

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