Idioma Origen:
Take away,
These hands of darkness.
Reaching for my soul.
Now, the cold wind,
blows out my candles.
Feeling,
only fear,
without any hopr.
A thousand dark moons.
A thousand winters long.
A million fallen stars,
the candle burns in the womb.
We trie not to forget,
they live through us.
Slowly they die away at every candle's end
A thousand dark moons.
A thousand winters long.
A million fallen stars,
the candle burns in the womb.
We trie not to forget,
they live through us.
Slowly they die away at every candle's end
Idioma Destino:
Take away,
These hands of darkness.
Reaching for my soul.
Now, the cold wind,
blows out my candles.
Feeling,
only fear,
without any hopr.
A thousand dark moons.
A thousand winters long.
A million fallen stars,
the candle burns in the womb.
We trie not to forget,
they live through us.
Slowly they die away at every candle's end
A thousand dark moons.
A thousand winters long.
A million fallen stars,
the candle burns in the womb.
We trie not to forget,
they live through us.
Slowly they die away at every candle's end