In white dressed they dancing
Love met the tragic face
With wind they are dancing
And wind dances in their hairs
Sadness decorates gently beautiful face
Roses, stranger, a victim, voices much further
Kneeling in the grass she picks
She picks the bloodstained knife
To recognize in this a key to the other side
Sometimes they smiling
There's no blood in their veins
A cruel memories
Of life sacrificing scenes
From depth of haze she's coming back
Walking among the moonlit roses
Graceful, still invisible, no!
Like an angel, shy paradise bird
Being entrapped eternaly
On the other side of mirror's glass
This used to be her playground
This used to be her grave
In white dressed they dancing
Love met the tragic face
With wind they are dancing
And wind dances in their hairs
Sadness decorates gently beautiful face
Roses, stranger, a victim, voices much further
Kneeling in the grass she picks
She picks the bloodstained knife
To recognize in this a key to the other side
Sometimes they smiling
There's no blood in their veins
A cruel memories
Of life sacrificing scenes
From depth of haze she's coming back
Walking among the moonlit roses
Graceful, still invisible, no!
Like an angel, shy paradise bird
Being entrapped eternaly
On the other side of mirror's glass
This used to be her playground
This used to be her grave
Love met the tragic face
With wind they are dancing
And wind dances in their hairs
Sadness decorates gently beautiful face
Roses, stranger, a victim, voices much further
Kneeling in the grass she picks
She picks the bloodstained knife
To recognize in this a key to the other side
Sometimes they smiling
There's no blood in their veins
A cruel memories
Of life sacrificing scenes
From depth of haze she's coming back
Walking among the moonlit roses
Graceful, still invisible, no!
Like an angel, shy paradise bird
Being entrapped eternaly
On the other side of mirror's glass
This used to be her playground
This used to be her grave
In white dressed they dancing
Love met the tragic face
With wind they are dancing
And wind dances in their hairs
Sadness decorates gently beautiful face
Roses, stranger, a victim, voices much further
Kneeling in the grass she picks
She picks the bloodstained knife
To recognize in this a key to the other side
Sometimes they smiling
There's no blood in their veins
A cruel memories
Of life sacrificing scenes
From depth of haze she's coming back
Walking among the moonlit roses
Graceful, still invisible, no!
Like an angel, shy paradise bird
Being entrapped eternaly
On the other side of mirror's glass
This used to be her playground
This used to be her grave