Текст песни состояние птиц - XII

I'm dead weight
i'm better off alone
when torn mind pierces the darkness
I hand a broken clock , and this eternity
the fate of the meeting going on broken glass
my fear of going off the trail behind me a trail of blood
pushes back and tramples dreams
and what once seemed true meaning of losing the taste becomes void
I'm going blind in search of the truth, from darkness into the light glass flakes
and while the nails turn into flowers , I lost myself in the ruins
and each step will leave an imprint of empty thoughts and wasted forces
blind artist paints a world without color , I am here only blot of spilled ink