we get colder
at the margins
it's an odd sounding word
in the deep shade
in the deeper shade
the figure of my own death

with his cold red shard
of survival
with no hint
of explanation
he leans against
the stretching cypress
he leans against
the stretching cypress
the figure of my own death

it's calling, it's always calling (x4)
but it gets distracted


Lyrics submitted by churchgonewild

Vision of Death song meanings
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