Novelists À Travers Le Miroir

She imprisoned my soul in a bottle

Like a firefly

And threw it again to the fire

She drew me that life on a vacant canvas

But she’s gone with its colors

We’re playing a duet

But the melody of melancholy seems to be the only thing we share

Tell me the secrets of her fantasy

How could I believe in this heaven that she promises?

She’s calling my name in my dreams

I can’t hide

Oh she’s in the walls, and she never falls asleep

I feel her presence

In these streets, in my house

In these thoughts that I have

With her cloak and her big black scythe

This sharp taste of iron doesn’t really leave

(Never really leaves)

Like calling her ghost through the mirror

I’m painting my life on this vacant canvas with my own blood

She’s calling my name in my dreams

I can’t hide

Oh she’s in the walls, and she never falls asleep

I feel her presence

In these streets, in my house

In these thoughts that I have

With her cloak and her big black scythe

I’m calling her ghost through the mirror

Oh I know that I just can’t hide

Novelists À Travers Le Miroir

She imprisoned my soul in a bottle

Like a firefly

And threw it again to the fire

She drew me that life on a vacant canvas

But she’s gone with its colors

We’re playing a duet

But the melody of melancholy seems to be the only thing we share

Tell me the secrets of her fantasy

How could I believe in this heaven that she promises?

She’s calling my name in my dreams

I can’t hide

Oh she’s in the walls, and she never falls asleep

I feel her presence

In these streets, in my house

In these thoughts that I have

With her cloak and her big black scythe

This sharp taste of iron doesn’t really leave

(Never really leaves)

Like calling her ghost through the mirror

I’m painting my life on this vacant canvas with my own blood

She’s calling my name in my dreams

I can’t hide

Oh she’s in the walls, and she never falls asleep

I feel her presence

In these streets, in my house

In these thoughts that I have

With her cloak and her big black scythe

I’m calling her ghost through the mirror

Oh I know that I just can’t hide

Novelists À Travers Le Miroir

She imprisoned my soul in a bottle

Like a firefly

And threw it again to the fire

She drew me that life on a vacant canvas

But she’s gone with its colors

We’re playing a duet

But the melody of melancholy seems to be the only thing we share

Tell me the secrets of her fantasy

How could I believe in this heaven that she promises?

She’s calling my name in my dreams

I can’t hide

Oh she’s in the walls, and she never falls asleep

I feel her presence

In these streets, in my house

In these thoughts that I have

With her cloak and her big black scythe

This sharp taste of iron doesn’t really leave

(Never really leaves)

Like calling her ghost through the mirror

I’m painting my life on this vacant canvas with my own blood

She’s calling my name in my dreams

I can’t hide

Oh she’s in the walls, and she never falls asleep

I feel her presence

In these streets, in my house

In these thoughts that I have

With her cloak and her big black scythe

I’m calling her ghost through the mirror

Oh I know that I just can’t hide

Novelists Muchos Touché

You wanna play the man, kid?

Aren’t you afraid to play with the fire?

So let’s play this game.

Gimme your best shot or you will get shot.

We’ve been like bros you and I…

Oh, I know, I’ve been too nice.

All this time you lied like you breathe.

Fuck.

You lie like you breathe.

There is a place for you in one of these body bags.

You better watch your back.

I’ll slit your throat with the dagger that you left in my back.

You bastard,

I curse your life.

I curse your life.

I’ll put you inside the trunk of an old Cadillac.

You’ll be found dead in a bag,

Next to a foxhole.

You’ll be the star of the newspapers main lines.

I swear to change your life in a fucking hell.

Novelists À Travers Le Miroir

She imprisoned my soul in a bottle

Like a firefly

And threw it again to the fire

She drew me that life on a vacant canvas

But she’s gone with its colors

We’re playing a duet

But the melody of melancholy seems to be the only thing we share

Tell me the secrets of her fantasy

How could I believe in this heaven that she promises?

She’s calling my name in my dreams

I can’t hide

Oh she’s in the walls, and she never falls asleep

I feel her presence

In these streets, in my house

In these thoughts that I have

With her cloak and her big black scythe

This sharp taste of iron doesn’t really leave

(Never really leaves)

Like calling her ghost through the mirror

I’m painting my life on this vacant canvas with my own blood

She’s calling my name in my dreams

I can’t hide

Oh she’s in the walls, and she never falls asleep

I feel her presence

In these streets, in my house

In these thoughts that I have

With her cloak and her big black scythe

I’m calling her ghost through the mirror

Oh I know that I just can’t hide

Novelists Twenty Years

We all live different hells

Some might live with but some just can’t

So why should I live a different way?

Yes, a different way

Already twenty years have passed and I still can’t live at ease

Oh, come on, fuck it

They claim the fame, but all they give is a spit at our faces

When they’re playing their bullshit

What does it take?

What does it take you to forget your pride?

What does it cost?

What does it cost you to pay the price?

It’s not only a game based on what you reflect to others

Although they want it to be

I can swear to you that I am probably the most blamed

Because I shout those fucks I lived

Fuck your false feelings, your appearance

‘Cause the best are often the most rotten inside

So I’ll put the truth right in front of your eyes

Right in front of your hearts

Fuck your false feelings

‘Cause the worst are the brighter inside

I’ll put the truth right in front of your eyes

Until they dry from the inside out

From the inside out

I’m gonna prove to you

That we’re all dying to make a place down here

We’re all dying to make a place down here

It’s not only a game based on what you reflect to others

Although they want it to be

I can swear to you that I am probably the most blamed

Because I shout those fucks I lived

Fuck your false feelings, your appearance

‘Cause the best are often the most rotten inside

So I’ll put the truth right in front of your eyes

Right in front of your hearts

Already twenty years have passed and I still can’t live at ease

Oh, come on, fuck it

They’ve made the game, but all the need is a spit at their faces

When they play their shit

We all live different hells

Some may live with but some just can’t

So why should I live a different way?

Yes, a different way

Novelists Muchos Touché

You wanna play the man, kid?

Aren’t you afraid to play with the fire?

So let’s play this game.

Gimme your best shot or you will get shot.

We’ve been like bros you and I…

Oh, I know, I’ve been too nice.

All this time you lied like you breathe.

Fuck.

You lie like you breathe.

There is a place for you in one of these body bags.

You better watch your back.

I’ll slit your throat with the dagger that you left in my back.

You bastard,

I curse your life.

I curse your life.

I’ll put you inside the trunk of an old Cadillac.

You’ll be found dead in a bag,

Next to a foxhole.

You’ll be the star of the newspapers main lines.

I swear to change your life in a fucking hell.

Novelists Muchos Touché

You wanna play the man, kid?

Aren’t you afraid to play with the fire?

So let’s play this game.

Gimme your best shot or you will get shot.

We’ve been like bros you and I…

Oh, I know, I’ve been too nice.

All this time you lied like you breathe.

Fuck.

You lie like you breathe.

There is a place for you in one of these body bags.

You better watch your back.

I’ll slit your throat with the dagger that you left in my back.

You bastard,

I curse your life.

I curse your life.

I’ll put you inside the trunk of an old Cadillac.

You’ll be found dead in a bag,

Next to a foxhole.

You’ll be the star of the newspapers main lines.

I swear to change your life in a fucking hell.

Novelists Muchos Touché

You wanna play the man, kid?

Aren’t you afraid to play with the fire?

So let’s play this game.

Gimme your best shot or you will get shot.

We’ve been like bros you and I…

Oh, I know, I’ve been too nice.

All this time you lied like you breathe.

Fuck.

You lie like you breathe.

There is a place for you in one of these body bags.

You better watch your back.

I’ll slit your throat with the dagger that you left in my back.

You bastard,

I curse your life.

I curse your life.

I’ll put you inside the trunk of an old Cadillac.

You’ll be found dead in a bag,

Next to a foxhole.

You’ll be the star of the newspapers main lines.

I swear to change your life in a fucking hell.

Novelists À Travers Le Miroir

She imprisoned my soul in a bottle

Like a firefly

And threw it again to the fire

She drew me that life on a vacant canvas

But she’s gone with its colors

We’re playing a duet

But the melody of melancholy seems to be the only thing we share

Tell me the secrets of her fantasy

How could I believe in this heaven that she promises?

She’s calling my name in my dreams

I can’t hide

Oh she’s in the walls, and she never falls asleep

I feel her presence

In these streets, in my house

In these thoughts that I have

With her cloak and her big black scythe

This sharp taste of iron doesn’t really leave

(Never really leaves)

Like calling her ghost through the mirror

I’m painting my life on this vacant canvas with my own blood

She’s calling my name in my dreams

I can’t hide

Oh she’s in the walls, and she never falls asleep

I feel her presence

In these streets, in my house

In these thoughts that I have

With her cloak and her big black scythe

I’m calling her ghost through the mirror

Oh I know that I just can’t hide