The Fevered Circle (исполнитель: At The Gates)
Each day a mournful pity Life looks upon you with scorn Hopes flee, visions elude As your feeble breath is turn Six sinister thorns of beaty The claws of the nondivine Our right to breathe Our right to bleed Forever denied What some seek in the depths of the unknown Need not be sought so far The [bad word] of what we are Each day a fevered circle Life looks upon youwith scorn Six sinister claws of darkness Strip your flesh to the bone