A desert with no life but scorpions Coming as a swarm, as a flood With an abundance of deadly stings... One for every remembrance One for every comforting echo of the past For blithe days of hope turned sour.
A desert with no life but scorpions Coming as a swarm, as a flood With an abundance of deadly stings... One for every remembrance One for every comforting echo of the past For blithe days of hope turned sour.