Vorai

A spider weaves a web with whispers
A name appeared, a strange odor
Golden eyes raise fingers
They fall upon deaf land
Bite off a piece before it is crushed
Beneathe the weight of a wandering centipede
An apple trapped in a cage of silk
A putrid sound, the mind of tiny glass

The winter is dead
The summer is dead
The body dances without a head
The air is dead
The light is dead
Emptiness is dead
The body dances without a head
The spiders cut off the head
The head, the head is dead
Spiders, spiders, spiders...



Credits
Writer(s): Lilith Wulf
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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