Текст песни Raventale - Лунный Блюз

The scent of cinnamon that moves away.
The last greedy inhale of sweetness.
a feeling of primeval emptiness.
An eternal dialogue... comes to end.
The words are like inevitable stains.
Like ulcers on snow-white skin.
Air is like rusty chains upon a neck.
The nature of realizing awareness, burns with the bitterness.

A moment of touching honey.
Is leaving white marks on a dead.
Phantasmagoria of an evening summer.
An epitaph of dead winter...
And a word will remain unspoken.
A hope that will stay in a womb.
You're tearing it out of a naked body.
The nails of your fleeting happiness.

Tear the petals of life's inflorescence.
The silence of lips is like a salvation.
Look at your weakness and fading within.
Not so cold is a blade as your blood.
The icy fragments of life are falling down.
In the last flight, in the last dialogue.
Having split yourself on the waste ground.
You could scent a smell of cinnamon and a light of sweetness.