Sculpt The Lives 歌词

Cold eyes of fire Talk to me Stillborn desire In the air I breathe In our wanton spirits I read Closure, Nauseating rites A face and heart I heed Unprecedented, In longing As we soar still higher As Icarus we'll plunge In longing manner we'll admire Into depths all unknown Soul and purpose set alight Over barren lands we've flown In transmission Morning thrives.