a blood raining sky with the roaring of thunder, okay dancing to a thousand symphonies my feet are off the ground dancing to a thousand symphonies I
I don't know much, about this thing called love, but I'm willing to try. I don't know much about it either baby, but if you're willing, then so am I.
Oh my love, in the barrel of a gun. We?re the girl girl girls, with the golden son. Oh my love. Nothing?s gonna stop us now except the long long lonely
Freude, schoner Gotterfunken, Tochter aus Elysium, Wir betreten feuertrunken, Himmlische, dein Heiligtum. Deine Zauber binden wieder, Was die Mode
Traduction: Malade Symphoniez. Dans cette vie.
: Las oigo mas cercanas, sagradas sinfonias del tiempo. Con una idea; que somos seres immortales, caidos en la oscuridad, pobres condenados por los siglos
my wife When we dance Angels will run and hide their wings When we dance Angels will run and hide their wings When we dance Angels will run and hide their wings When we dance
: Child in the manger, infant of Mary, Outcast and Stranger, Lord of us all, Child Who inherits all our transgressions, All our demerits upon Him fall
cry Remember my princess these words Again we will fly In this theatre of silence Where time has no sense In endless I will see My angel dance Dramatic
blood raining sky with the roaring of thunder, okay dancing to a thousand symphonies my feet are off the ground dancing to a thousand symphonies I love
Las oigo mas cercanas, sagradas sinfonias del tiempo. Con una idea; que somos seres immortales, caidos en la oscuridad, pobres condenados por los siglos
the crowd clapped furiously they could not see the joke 'Twas tea-time at the circus, though some might not agree as jugglers danced, and horses pranced
The signs of running time Are hollowing your scars You see an approaching deadline Things have come too far Living lane is drowning in grey Where's the
be my wife When we dance Angels will run and hide their wings When we dance Angels will run and hide their wings When we dance Angels will run and hide their wings When we dance
I don't know much, about this thing called love, but I'm willing to try. I don't know much about it either baby, but if you're willing, then so am I
Child in the manger, infant of Mary, Outcast and Stranger, Lord of us all, Child Who inherits all our transgressions, All our demerits upon Him fall.
To continue that motion towards the end, Slowly...circling...dancing. This path of solitude, Towards the immense shapeless emptiness. Graceful Transcent