Текст песни your aunt's tripe - за дверью

09/07/13

Before the door stands a man
He's moody, he seemed a cold
Resident is not the first century
But if something is forgotten

He is dressed in a black suit and a cylinder
And in his hand a thick portfolio
Something shechpet under the nose itself quickly
Cursing thoughts snowstorm

He is afraid to ring the bell
Just heard the sound of his heart
But the door had long since stopped
Creek love his strong, immortal

At the kitchen is a stool
A chandelier hanging on a rope
Lonely pale body
Something was once a child

Before the door stands a man
He was late in some time too
Resident is not the first century
But I could not remember now