Thursday, November 22, 2007
Despair is a sweet trap, a closed door.
The heart is a battlefield, it spares no one.
Their clockwork hearts are manipulated by destiny,
The tin-plate soldiers begin their massacre.
Are lives playthings too, in this crumbling fairy tale kingdom?
Please, don't ever forget the pain that runs deep in your heart.
Desire is a poisoned apple. What is it that you have obtained?
What are we going to pass on to the children of tomorrow?
The rocking cradle that knows no love, in this sleeping forest as it burns to the ground,
The rocking cradle that knows no love, why were we born into this world?
In faraway lands, the prayer-like lullaby resounds...
-Wana by The Back Horn