her side And feels her song deep inside And find a reason In the shadow of the season To find a reason to carry on In the shadow of the season To find
Превод: Screaming Trees. Сянката на сезона.
hope in those squeaky clean eyes You'll get chilly receptions everywhere you go Blinded with desire - i guess the season is on So you train by shadow
can get gone [Verse 1] Okay you're listening to a mutherfuckin monster cuz he's behind the gates of hell Step into the darkness and I will show you where I dwell In the shadows of the trees
The wind blew the torrent of darkness Through the gusty trees The moon was a ghostly galleon Tossed upon cloudy seas And on that night, I met my master
the face of a hooker crackhead climb out a sewer and took her body down its feeding time no misleading red moon high bring the slaughtering season the trees catch shadows
Spawned wanton like blight on an auspicious night Her eyes betrayed spells of the moon's eerie light A disquieting gaze forever ghosting far seas Bled
hope in those squeaky clean eyes You'll get chilly receptions everywhere you go Blinded with desire I guess the season is on So you train by shadow
by the sea No dry land in sight, not a mountain or tree No rock jutted out from the endless horizon Or flowers to mark out the changing of seasons No
sight, not a mountain or tree No rock jutted out from the endless horizon Or flowers to mark out the changing of seasons No animals dwelt in the forests
killers Let dreams flow into savage times Do you hear the sirens scream across the city? We've had three hot nights in succession The riot season is
killers....let dreams flow into savage times....do you hear the sirens scream across the city, we've had three hot nights in succession....the riot season
my body Harvests the lust pegase Stillness, wind silent as The moon shines Bright as a tree in darkness Horses of calmness caress me Miserable shadowings
without you realizing it's my mind's sky and the ground on which you walk is the tounge with which i walk i speak the seas, i root the trees of suburbia
And hope in those squeaky clean eyes You'll get chilly receptions everywhere you go Blinded with desire - guess the season is on So you train by shadow
