Ion At An - "Fire" text
Fire running through Your veins
It burns to the ground all that is useless
Fire runnig throughyour veins
It burns to a cinder all that is worthless
Are Your acts made of solid gold?
And your words are they worth silver?
All of your castles arent they made of sand?
And His breath make them shiver
Will we be judged by the things we say?
Our days go by so what can buy us some time?
What things make the grains go slower through a sandglass?
Or better - what things can prove if we are real?
What takes a crack at our jewels?
Are we real?
Are our lives precious?