The most beautiful places, are haunted...
Let it rain a day, a week, a year...
Sao Paulo.
I was with you alone,
winter was gone...
winter was gone...
What is it in my eyes, A piece of broken glass...
Vintage.
The silence of the graves is not silent at all,
Millions of the dead are crying in their graves,
But no one can hear them ... no one ever hears ...
No one can hear them ... Except for the dead themselves.
Millions of the dead are crying in their graves,
But no one can hear them ... no one ever hears ...
No one can hear them ... Except for the dead themselves.
Amnesia.
Sometimes, in those lonely Hours,
I can hear His voice in my Head...
I can hear His voice in my Head...
Oh, does he know the ghosts I drag
the dreadful ending I expect?
The fact that I carelessly stepped
into my very own, dark trap?
the dreadful ending I expect?
The fact that I carelessly stepped
into my very own, dark trap?
El trabajo de las arañas.
