The wall on which the prophets wrote
Is cracking at the seams.
Upon the instruments of death
The sunlight brightly gleams.
When every man is torn apart
With nightmares and with dreams,
Will no one lay the laurel wreath
When silence drowns the screams.
Is cracking at the seams.
Upon the instruments of death
The sunlight brightly gleams.
When every man is torn apart
With nightmares and with dreams,
Will no one lay the laurel wreath
When silence drowns the screams.
Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying.
CRYING.....!!!!!!!!!
GOOD job Andrej
OdpovědětVymazatTedy - skoro přemýšlím zda jsem od tebe už vůbec viděl bewéčko - má to grády - je to výborný!
OdpovědětVymazat