Paroles de Feeble Screams From Forests Unknown

Drifting In the air Above a cold lake Is a soul From an early Better age Grasping for A mystic thought In vain, but who's to know Further on lies eternal search For theories to lift the gate Only locks are made stronger And more keys lost as logic fades In the pool of dreams the water darkens For the soul that's tired of search As years pass by The aura drops As less and less Feelings touch Stupidity Has won too much The hopeless soul keeps mating