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.