It looks to kill And fails to wait in sight It twists me from inside Carry all, heal the sore, I can no longer bleed What is this, thing I've been, you
Traduzione: Paradise Lost. Il Verbo fatto carne.
: It looks to kill And fails to wait in sight It twists me from inside Carry all, heal the sore, I can no longer bleed What is this, thing I've been,