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I'm hunting my world, til I stand still |
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For recalling the day, for reclaiming a breath |
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I'm hunting myself, til I stand still |
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To remind me of life and to steal me a word |
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And I call the tempest, the deep and honest, to lead me back |
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And I call the tempest, the circling conquest, to blur the track |
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I'm hunting my world, til I stand still |
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For objecting the skies, for regaining a state |
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I'm hunting myelf, til I stand still |
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To spit ruth in a face and to burn the remains |
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And I call the tempest, the brawling harvest, to reap a dread |
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And I call the tempest, the riot in my chest, to clean a head |
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And I am hunting... |
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I'm hunting my world, til I stand still |
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For renouncing a shape, for returning a rage |
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I'm hunting myself, til worlds stand still |
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To get taste of a will and to break all the shells |
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And I call the tempest... |
