In reading, a lonely quiet concert is given to our minds; all our mental faculties will be present in this symphonic exaltation.
Stéphane Mallarmé
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Immaculate Deception
In the daylight, comes darkness, on the verge of
Night a fear is born,
Sweeter than the dream, the reality of you,
Immaculate, deception.
From the spirit runs poison, and the wheel of
Fortune is ever still,
Sweeter than the light, the darkness of your soul,
Immaculate, deception.
Something has touched, the spirit inside,
Once there was love now there's a void.
Nights of deception, ghosts in my mind,
Am I bewitched, slave to desire.
It's knowing that times keeps rolling on, night after
Day, day after night,
It's knowing that feeling of coming home, to where
My spirit lies.
It's knowing that feeling of coming home, to where
My spirit lies.