Paroles de la chanson The Muse par Howling Syn
Chanson manquante pour "Howling Syn" ? Proposer les paroles
Proposer une correction des paroles de "The Muse"
Proposer une correction des paroles de "The Muse"
Paroles de la chanson The Muse par Howling Syn
The page was white but is no longer
You found her or did she find you?
Forgive her for upsetting your world
Behold the beauty your pain has grown
You're drowning in her pool of thorns
Catching your breath on the moon-driven tides
And clinging to your words and colors
Like bits of her flesh you want to make whole
And she cries with you but of joy
As she sees the blood you've masterpieced
In trying to understand
Why her labyrinthine ways ever reached you
I was naught before you came. Now my life's a work of art.
You found her or did she find you?
Forgive her for upsetting your world
Behold the beauty your pain has grown
You're drowning in her pool of thorns
Catching your breath on the moon-driven tides
And clinging to your words and colors
Like bits of her flesh you want to make whole
And she cries with you but of joy
As she sees the blood you've masterpieced
In trying to understand
Why her labyrinthine ways ever reached you
I was naught before you came. Now my life's a work of art.
Let me always take the blame but let nothing tear us apart.
The page was white but is no longer
You found her or did she find you?
Forgive her for upsetting your world
Behold the beauty your pain has grown
She cuts the wings you never thought you had
As you sculpt her out of eternity
Into a mortal figure of love and punishment
And your false hope stretches but never breaks
Come to me, my muse. Torture me with my lamentations.
Cruel one, you shan't refuse. My genius lies on your passions.
You're my soul, my miracle! My desperately beautiful!
The page was white but is no longer
You found her or did she find you?
Forgive her for upsetting your world
Behold the beauty your pain has grown
She cuts the wings you never thought you had
As you sculpt her out of eternity
Into a mortal figure of love and punishment
And your false hope stretches but never breaks
Come to me, my muse. Torture me with my lamentations.
Cruel one, you shan't refuse. My genius lies on your passions.
You're my soul, my miracle! My desperately beautiful!
Angel divine of purest gold! My wonderfully painful!
Until the fall, she holds your name
Until the fall... before the fame
Until the fall, she holds your name
Until the fall... before the fame
Paroles.net dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
Concerts d'Indochine
