The Meadow of Sins

The grip of dementia that smiles from a veil
Distorts all my visions, my passions of clay
She gathers the nymphos, the child and the rain
The ballet of death is our own masquerade

The lanterns are shining from my stoned demise
That sparkles like stars while I'm dying inside
The ghost of my sorrow you just cannot bear
For nothing is worth of my needless despair

The ballet won't stop
Till our voices are whispers
Like frozen drops at the hands of our trickster

You walk on the scaffold you try not to see
You blame me for something you seem to esteem
In who is delighted to laugh at your sorrow
In name of your love she will kill you tomorrow

Silent is howling your death dressed in white
You don't want to see that your time now is nigh
I may be deceived by my silent devotion
But all that I'll be is confetti in motion

The ballet won't stop
Till our voices are whispers
Like frozen drops at the hands of our trickster



Credits
Writer(s): Chiara Mascetti, Federica Luna Arreghini, Federica Mapelli, Veronica Annalisa Ferrucci, Viola Fai
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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