Nightrage

The Tremor
Nothing hurts like the truth, a piece of perfidy, a deceitful behaviour, women's lures, deserted like an empty corpse, an uneasy conscience. Stigmatised in hell, he's puffed up with conceit, there will come a day of retribution, they're just lost dreams, cursed to crawl between hypocrites and vain promises, my heart bleeds. [CHORUS:] The tremor of leaves in the breeze. You can't weigh up, where does this road lead, at whose door should the blame lie? The lie lay heavy on his conscience. [CHORUS] From Letras Mania