Woorden: Quix*o*tic. Dead Trees.

as you leave for the path to see what exists here beyond what your eye can see
a contagious breeze the smell of something that does not exist in this world catches your whole free soul
it leads you to a place where white shadows of pain walk the earth in vain
they'll twist you up inside they'll tear the life right from your eyes and cut you off from dying
oh death the complete annihilating love
so keep your eyes of the sky
i want you to be here my dear
and don't retrace your steps or you will become one of them forever in the dead trees