The games people play...
The games people play...
All the angels, see wilted flowers dripping tears.
Red Devils, White Angels,
dressed in Black.
And the flames grow higher.
And then start to cry.
If you say everyone was meant to be together,
then we can laugh.
A revolution against the kings, against yourself, I remember.
(If you say everyone was meant to be together,
then we can laugh.
A revolution against the kings, against yourself,
I remember.)
I remember when you said, "Let's start a religion."
Where is it now?
In the burning cry for yesterday.
I remember.
Maybe this is fantasy.
Maybe this is Halloween.
Maybe it's a memory, wrapped in purples light.
The games people play...
The games people play...
Maybe this is fantasy.
Maybe this is Halloween.
Maybe it's a memory, wrapped in purples light.
Maybe this is fantasy.
Maybe this is Halloween.
Maybe it's a memory, wrapped in purples light.