Paroles de On most surfaces (inuit)

The Gathering

pochette album On most surfaces (inuit)
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The frost hits me in the eye and wakes me
These are blurry winters and i cannot see

I walk into the white light of the snow
When the sun comes
I break it with my shadow
Which tales me where i go

The frost hits me in the eye and wakes me

I am the snow falling down on you
I tear up your face with my frost
And make you run to somewhere warm
When i come i see you get away
I burst out about your emptiness

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