Paroles de la chanson Archaic Correspondence par Les Comptes De Korsakoff
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Paroles de la chanson Archaic Correspondence par Les Comptes De Korsakoff
Stop!
Stop everything!
I throw up the sponge! War is done!
I repainted the moon.
I drew her features like my face; I made an accomplice of my madness, present and future.
The toxic green infected the carnivorous tree.
I killed the ants, my gratefulness hasn’t got any price!
I swelled the death’s colors, then the life’s ones.
I drank until the last drop, the shower of torrential rain.
My armor sticks to my skin, tanned like an old leather.
Stop everything!
I throw up the sponge! War is done!
I repainted the moon.
I drew her features like my face; I made an accomplice of my madness, present and future.
The toxic green infected the carnivorous tree.
I killed the ants, my gratefulness hasn’t got any price!
I swelled the death’s colors, then the life’s ones.
I drank until the last drop, the shower of torrential rain.
My armor sticks to my skin, tanned like an old leather.
Piece after piece, I make the puzzle, and stick the landscape again.
I cut off the two heads of the giant hydra.
My wounded Eden changed its face.
I don’t give him anything to eat
Nightmares make me laugh! “When I wake up.”
I unmasked the clown! “But he still alive.”
No, I made him harmless! “He still has his red nose.”
I darken all of the puppet’s faces.
And it isn’t a grave anymore. With a powerful, heavy and effective movement, I lay out my road.
I cut off the two heads of the giant hydra.
My wounded Eden changed its face.
I don’t give him anything to eat
Nightmares make me laugh! “When I wake up.”
I unmasked the clown! “But he still alive.”
No, I made him harmless! “He still has his red nose.”
I darken all of the puppet’s faces.
And it isn’t a grave anymore. With a powerful, heavy and effective movement, I lay out my road.
I killed Karl. No blood flowed.
His veins were empty, without fluid, without sap.
I opened his belly.
He has become a cumbersome caricature.
A dead letter. I throw his dead body, to the vulture.
Who could still believe in him?
He doesn’t look like me, only a memory.
I killed Karl.
The toxic green infected the carnivorous tree.
I killed the ants, my gratefulness hasn’t got any price!
The toxic green infected the carnivorous tree.
I killed the ants , my gratefulness…
His veins were empty, without fluid, without sap.
I opened his belly.
He has become a cumbersome caricature.
A dead letter. I throw his dead body, to the vulture.
Who could still believe in him?
He doesn’t look like me, only a memory.
I killed Karl.
The toxic green infected the carnivorous tree.
I killed the ants, my gratefulness hasn’t got any price!
The toxic green infected the carnivorous tree.
I killed the ants , my gratefulness…
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