Word Of Astaroth

Birds in Row

Passive complainers are travellers with no memories. They 
put down their bags and show us their sore feet. But the 
question is: would a hot bath make them shut their mouths 
? They've got time to complain but no seconds to change. 
Living criticism never lighting the weight of this heavy 
sky which will end breaking our fragile necks. It's time 
to light the sky, but tonight everyone's complaining. 
Subversively crying with their hands in their pockets. I 
saw smiles between their undending grimaces and it may 
betray any kind of inner pleasure. I don't listen to you 
if your only solution's to get high on pills on every 
disillusion. I don't understand you if your choice is to 
wait for that train to come straight to your face. 
There's one world where one word could have made things 
live and move from the most static state. Engrave it on 
your cold desperate heart, and start looking for a 
change. Nevermind the way you find to wake up, it should 
always be fine. I'll scream you the word of astaroth, I'm 
searching for the light. Aemaeth.

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