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These grey ornaments of your apocalypse Lyrics

Poisonous dust
Draws on wet glass
Grey ornaments
They are transforming to
A dreadful picture
of an apocalypse
Of your apocalypse

And I see
Terrible grimaces of lords
of destruction
Agony of creatures
Burning in the crimson flame
That is the future
I do not want my own dreams
To become the reality
Cause all this simply seems to me

I can"t predict what waits for us tomorrow
But I want you to understand
I can"t predict what waits for us tomorrow
I can"t be silent when I see another"s pain
Everything passed
And the picture of reality is destroyed
And I see
Lifeless desert
and the black line of horizon

One more step
One more sigh
One more chance
to try to rethink all
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