Panic Channel - Teahouse of the Spirits lyrics

Forever pacing, the walls within our heads.

Tempted by our dreams invoked from fear of death!

The clouded sources of all passions fade to grey.

Concealed in cryptic message, for what purpose were we made?

Hollow state stale, behind us leave no trails.

To the wolves that gather before us, wonders mankind frail.

Drudgery of past, remains closeing in fast.

Forsight restraint, trusting invisible paths!

Mankind struggles to endure the human form.

Wisdoms barracades await the yet unborn.

Promises of miracles, the denial of defeat.

Within the arms of your angels, our failures will repeat!

Those in darkness never rest.

Within all pain resides the wuest.

Our passion bleeds, crys for dying answers will forever weigh on the

will to become

Furor (the) Lyrics