didn't come home and it was just us alone The brat and the widowed civilian Then one April night after Ma took her life I fell down the street to oblivion
They rule the land, they're in command They hold all strings in hand They are invisible Out of sight they've designed A secret place to play their games
In deep woods, in diadems of trees Sounds woeful song of oblivion About what was and might be Withheld was gift, oblivion is Voice shivers as string
Millenniums, swallowing lives of nations and casting generations down in the dust and oblivion, mortifying hopes of people, why can't I touch your spectral
continents Once part of the same tree Away from where they belonged Near sits a part of my twin moon captured from the mirror waters The sacred drink withdraws oblivion
edge of the abyss Fiercely thrown down into a void so cold Darkness as you knew it its nothing compared to this Going over the edge and ino oblivion
They rule the land They're in command They all the strings in hand They are invisible Out of sight They've designed A secret place To play their games
each other waiting for reaction wanting satisfaction for the past. I want nothing . . . from the past. Always been so easy you?re like a puppet on my string
The seahorse rears to oblivion... When God created the worlds they were before then, without form A void except in his own great eye which had already
blind But now that I'm awake, this world fills me with hate I've cast aside all false illusions No more a servant nor a puppet on strings The time has
the edge of the abyss Fiercelly thrown down into a void so cold Darkness as you knew it is nothing compared to this Going over the edge and into oblivion
around each other waiting for reaction wanting satisfaction for the past. I want nothing . . . from the past. Always been so easy you?re like a puppet on my string
in my head. Little wisp of men dancing on the strings - fragile harmonics in the bitter Ether of Nihil. Never to hear such a soul-engraving melody. String
