En Brazos de La Fiebre
Héroes Del Silencio
In the Arms of Fever
With the arms of fever
Still embracing my forehead
I have thought it over
And I will unleash the serpents of vanity
Paradise is to listen
Fear is a thief
I hold no grudge
And pain is a rehearsal for death
In the skin of a drop
My wings returned broken
And among other things
They no longer write with ink of light
Paradise turns into hell
And then it burns
And without anyone moving
Who fixes it?
Gestated in my rubble
With a pasty palate
The nonsense of chaos
Defeated me with words of praise
In the skin of a drop
My wings returned broken
And among other things
They no longer write with ink of light
Paradise turns into hell
And then it burns
And without anyone moving
Who fixes it?
