Melodium
Follow the Trains of Thoughts
It was that night they came for youThe proper thing was to kill yourselfBefore they got you and made you jogFor all the trains of thoughtsIt was that night they came for youThe proper thing was to cure yourselfBefore they got you and made you jogFor other trains of thoughtsHear, no one's here, waiting for youA priest in my patience, he was aloneAnd nobody knows what the south is likeHere, and no more strange Nobody knows what that sounds like
From Letras Mania