Ritter
Sounds like the death comes for me but as I walk through her path, I find, and believe me, I find them, the lights that come from the ground. If only my hands wouldn´t burn I could touch the real hell at home. Oh, the hell of your eyes at home. So I see the sword swinging in the air, then its shiny pit in my throat. My throat still closed. My throat still doesn´t know. Sounds like the horse running through me, how it dares to cross me so? Maybe it's your real brave soul, the real you percolating below. And deepest below my skin... oh, your skin. If you could just take off the armor, I would border the fragrance of your nightmares. The sweet poison in the nightmares. Would you still dream of me when the death arrives here? Would you take me for a ride with you? I can´t stand the fire of the ground. But, here is it, the time of redemption, Free my wings. And here is it, our time to give in into the pit, Free the sword. Let the night fades with our