Inner Voice by Darkestrah Lyrics
Ashes will scatter on earth as a necklace, beginning of night
Scars stare at us from the sky
The mirror of lake water will give us the way
The sublimity of cities will unveil to our eyes
Sad mirage reflects the pain
The southern wind quietly dies in silence
The ancient mountains will freeze a heart of the earth
Draw eyes on your palms
Let your hair fall down onto shoulders
Let the wind to dry them up
Recollect a song forgotten by me, let trees remind you...
Throw some salt into a fire
Clear the ground of gods
Fall on the sand, embrace the cold stones
Ask only which you'll need for the way
Their soul awaken by your breath
So let their advices through your ears
Listen to the ground
A footfall of horses are audible here
Look at the sky, the star - your satellite, flashes up
Pray to fire, there is a life flow in his flame...
In the morning, we will make a way
In the middle of deserted waters
Under the gold of the burning sun
There damp, dusty and sour rain
The small of thunder-storms, and bile of freedom
There calls an inner voice
The rich merchant will come to us ad give us a thousand coins
Scars stare at us from the sky
The mirror of lake water will give us the way
The sublimity of cities will unveil to our eyes
Sad mirage reflects the pain
The southern wind quietly dies in silence
The ancient mountains will freeze a heart of the earth
Draw eyes on your palms
Let your hair fall down onto shoulders
Let the wind to dry them up
Recollect a song forgotten by me, let trees remind you...
Throw some salt into a fire
Clear the ground of gods
Fall on the sand, embrace the cold stones
Ask only which you'll need for the way
Their soul awaken by your breath
So let their advices through your ears
Listen to the ground
A footfall of horses are audible here
Look at the sky, the star - your satellite, flashes up
Pray to fire, there is a life flow in his flame...
In the morning, we will make a way
In the middle of deserted waters
Under the gold of the burning sun
There damp, dusty and sour rain
The small of thunder-storms, and bile of freedom
There calls an inner voice
The rich merchant will come to us ad give us a thousand coins