Paroles de la chanson Beautiful Day To Die par LECKS Inc.

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Paroles de la chanson Beautiful Day To Die par LECKS Inc.

How many tears will it need to pay my coffin
When I’ll bite the ground of my stigmatized body
Roots will crown with flowers my empty head
Finally free for me only, in my selfish hole.

It's a beautiful day to die
Im alone and nobody hears me
I still have just million questions
But no matter, but no matter

It's a beautiful day to die
There is no more illusion to have
The head in the noose to relax me
I want the death down on my feets

The difficult simplicity to live
Is formed around the neck in a withers
Keeping in the swamp of my stomach
The mud of some residues of humanities

Copious cooking of ruined memories
Spreading in stream formless and sterile
Which I eat shabbily dressed
Of these moments abstracts, of immaterial bore

-Every respiratory movement is prisoner
Unknown Victim has half buried
Sucking the gloomy atmosphere of the seasons
To the deaf palpitation of a lustful secret

It's a beautiful day to die
Im alone and nobody hears me
I still have just million questions
But no matter, but no matter

It's a beautiful day to die
There is no more illusion to have
The head in the noose to relax me
I want the death down on my feets

The difficult simplicity to live
Is formed around the neck in a withers
Keeping in the swamp of my stomach
The mud of some residues of humanities

Copious cooking of ruined memories
Spreading in stream formless and sterile
Which I eat shabbily dressed
Of these moments abstracts, of immaterial bore

My soul is an abyss of bitter intentions
To know the regret of another morning

It's my name which flow between my fingers
The life line which I squeeze in my fist

My only regret is to not being crazy
Whereas I wait for the death machine

And as the last flame of a devout stake
I shall bend in the disorder of my hair

It's a beautiful day to die
Im alone and nobody hears me
I still have just million questions
But no matter, but no matter

It's a beautiful day to die
There is no more illusion to have
The head in the noose to relax me
I want the death down on my feets

Humbled by heavy stagnant feelings
As a scar fertilized of wisdom
By domestic hell of my rotten flesh
Licked by the expiatory imagination

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