Woorden:
Gathering The Capital Of Nowhere

Before the morning wakes Night's gone up in flames Of the neon lights A siren calls my way Don't easily fade away In between the height Light travels

Before the morning wakes Night's gone up in flames Of the neon lights A siren calls my way Don't easily fade away In between the height Light travels

. The capitals shedding dead Acanthus leaves which descend in slow motion to become parts of the rustling on the floor. Doors leading nowhere. Stairs