Текст песни Stigmata - Лёд

Strait on the pile of rocks,
Useless flows forward
Burning granite mill
In the mouth greedily swallows the ice

Cold creek
Our hopes
Which ever
Break the ice

Without touching
Openwork surface of the water
He melted
A whisper of silence

The fog creeps over the rocks,
Closing the firmament
Kissing giving ground,
Transformed into a fragile ice

Cold creek
Our hopes
Which ever
Break the ice

Without touching
Openwork surface of the water
He melted
A whisper of silence

Time is running out,
And every time he
Stokes ice
In our hearts

Without touching
Openwork surface of the water
He melted
A whisper of silence