Текст песни Sunday's Words

What can ever bloom again, when the power to live is missing, dryness sows hate inside of my heart. Fading lust, a flower made of stone, forgotten in being. Broken of life, disintegrated of illusion. The dread lets me feel the force of love, to refuse my power, I hate the thirst of love. It will judge me, judge me until death. Sunday means flesh.