The Tremor

Nightrage

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    Nothing hurts like the truth, a piece of perfidy, a deceitful behaviour,
    women's lures, deserted like an empty corpse, an uneasy conscience.

    Stigmatised in hell, he's puffed up with conceit,
    there will come a day of retribution, they're just lost dreams,
    cursed to crawl between hypocrites and vain promises,
    my heart bleeds.

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    [CHORUS:]
    The tremor of leaves in the breeze.

    You can't weigh up, where does this road lead,
    at whose door should the blame lie?
    The lie lay heavy on his conscience.

    [CHORUS]

    Song details

    Composition: Marios Iliopoulos

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