CORRIGER LES PAROLES

Paroles : Until The Storm Comes

One takes an even path
No give or gain
Into a future to which submission yields pain
To be a fatalist
Absorbing every rich
Brought forward by the wind
Yet nothing more

Forces moving pull towards and push away
A driftwood in the current
Bliss or hurt
A victim to the day
One crosses over

The dead hold on to no such pieces
Control is a facade
Fast crumbling in the face of disease
A mind's as boundless
As days before its vessel expires

Heart pumps fire amplified
Rips self structure from inside

High upon a mountain
Or a prison cеll
Or mansion
All is transient
Passenger or steering wheel in hand
Thе night still falls
The ride still ends as it ends