Because my straitjacket armor was a bit too short
they shod me in a pair of knights’ boots,
they pulled a helmet over my eyes, my hands
they chopped off, just in case.
And because it’s only knights I’ve met since then,
I rush to handshake them,
rush to handshake them,
rush to handshake them.
And sometimes I survive.
What an Awful Pleasure
At 8 O’clock
At Central Station
A Stone in the Swamp
Another Stone in the Swamp
Under the Creed"s Mantle
The Tip of My Tongue
Misery
Fear
What an Awful Pleasure
At Central Station
A Stone in the Swamp
Another Stone in the Swamp
Under the Creed"s Mantle
The Tip of My Tongue
Misery
Fear
What an Awful Pleasure
AuthorRumen Leonidov