Текст песни My S.K.Y. - 7

Seven billion souls
What would be the Creator
You want the truth,
But coming to someone's throat?
Suppose I'm wrong - do not care,
For me hundreds of those who are willing to
Forget about the world of dreams.

The slow step,
Through the mist into the void
You spend, on thin ice
If you prove the purity of the soul.

In my sins to blame only me, they can not justify the (impossible)
Life behind that front, too easy to slip out of the way

Give a chance to return back
Pulse accelerates the discharge of emotions
Forgive me, a dream is too easy to kill
Finding the answers can not be completed

The Divine Comedy was the diabolical drama
Pride, greed and lust grows strange glory
And did not understand satire, idleness took for happiness
Who are we now? Descendants prejudice Huxley?
Fires survivors doubt immediately simmer with anger
Why think? Life is given to us the fruit of the tree!
Everything that is wrong is another falls
Gluttony breeds envy.

Soon I see the final credits,
The city wakes up from sleep.
I do not know what to choose -
Betrayal or loss of self.

Phantoms persons wrapper bodies
Find the reality did not,
She was so deep inside.
Turn around and remember who you are,
Life behind that front?
Emptiness.

Give me a chance to bring back
Pulse accelerates the discharge of emotions
Forgive me, a dream is too easy to kill
Finding the answers can not be completed