9 May 2012
When the days are cold And the cards all fold And the saints we see Are all made of gold
When your dreams all fail And the ones we hail Are the worst of all And the blood’s run stale
I want to hide the truth I want to shelter you But with the beast inside There’s nowhere we can hide
No matter what we breed We still are made of greed This is my kingdom come This is my kingdom come
Opuss № I