Texty:
Cemetery Of Scream The Event Horizon

In the vapours of opium In a smoky Paris salon Like a black and white photo It's a kind of deja vu Dancing girls Their faces veiled Naked bellies Empty

Winter forest Winter patterns on the trees Trudging through the horny bushes Snow is cracking Underneath my feet Broken branches Shadows grey My eyes

In his room - an alien aura Glass-pipes, mortars, golden vessels He knows all, but he must hurry Working on what seems so precious He's gonna turn this

In the web of dreams In the well of nightmares In the world of her coma She's playing her game She belongs to the clan Half-alive, half-dead Her astral

heart So deep within me Inside of me Slow and majestic, it grew up The emptiness within my heart Under the moon, under the stars And in the evening misty