place... What is comming, am I fooling ? I can feel there's shape in the night, That voice is filling my mind... Somewhere I can hear a whisper, Seems
water, And sail on a looking glass sea. Sweetheart, be my honey. Lily a la lune. The fire flies above me, A will of the whisp, a lovely perfume. A vision
Blessed assurance that Jesus is mine, mine, mine, mine Oh, what a foretaste, a foretaste of glory divine, oh yes And an Heir to Salvation, yes, Amen,
[Music + lyrics: M. Weikath] Make the people hold each other's hands and fill their hearts with truth you made up your mind so do as divined Put on
praising my Savior all the day long Perfect submission, perfect delight Visions of rapture now burst on my sight Angels descending bring from above Echoes of mercy, whispers
Savior, all the day long. Perfect submission, perfect delight, Visions of rapture now burst on my sight; Angels descending bring from above Echoes of mercy, whispers
my Savior all the day long Perfect submission, perfect delight Visions of rapture now burst on my sight Angels descending bring from above Echoes of mercy, whispers
steps To a perfect life Gaze a crystal sky Its wept away Your sorrow end Paint all my pictures with glanzed perfect eye Fall into the visions then wonder
run Run and find the final sign [Solo] [Bridge] Find the sands of time Send him a sign There are mystical secrets before you Will they arise, your visions divine
of fate Master of dark desires arrive as their kingdom falls Master of divine desires arrive as Satan calls The night crawls upon me The wind whispers
Savior all the day long Perfect submission, perfect delight Visions of rapture, now burst on my sight Angels descending, bring from above, above Echoes of mercy, whispers
Forgive me Father, I have sinned Darkness put her meaty claws in me again Her vision drowns like service wine Whispered kisses so divine I was blessed
breeze With curling tongues that lapped His lead As through thick mountain mist He wandered cursed with thoughts adrift He paused to draught forbidden streams That whispered
subconsciously always present Vague visions of past centuries This is the night! When season's change This is the night! When season's change The trees seem to whisper
crib; it had to be my bitch, she gon' die if I live! Usually I keep a black glock on my dresser, and I'm hearin' someone whisper, sayin' "Los, Im'a getcha
