Nástroje
Ensembles
Genres
Skladatelé
Umělci

Texty: Howards Alias. The Chameleon Script. Exile.


Believe it, you went and threw it all away,
I gave my life, not an inch.
Exile, only made worse by the
Tiresome hours wasted away inside this cage.

Innocence, a word that shouldn't be used for such murky waters,
And yet, somehow fitting, finds it's way
Into my thoughts.
Into my thoughts, into my thoughts.

Social well-being is a state-of-mind,
It seems, vagrancy is all I have.
Exile, only made worse by the
Tiresome hours wasted away inside this cage.

Innocence, a word that shouldn't be used for such murky waters,
And yet, somehow fitting, finds it's way
Into my thoughts.
Into my thoughts, into my thoughts.

Innocence, a word that shouldn't be used for such murky waters,
And yet, somehow fitting, finds it's way
Into my thoughts.
Into my thoughts, into my thoughts