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Cold, pale, grey... Standing still against the change of seasons Without a coffin, the corpse of yesterday Ground Zero... Catacomb of perished memories Empty slot in this necropolis Ground Zero... Not a soul, not even troglodytes There's not a soul... Washed away with the rain All the stains that were made from blood And the canvas is white... No traces of blood Washed away with the rain All the stains that were made from blood And the canvas is white From an artist lobotomized Cold, as a winter's day Pale, as a ghost in chains Letras de cancionesGrey, as the ashes that drift with a nuclear wind Cold, Pale, Grey Cold, as a winter's day Pale, as a ghost in chains Grey, as the ashes that drift with a nuclear wind (Merci à Ines Goth pour cettes paroles) From Letras Mania