All revolutions are dead..
Still, the rebel is pure.
All revolutions are sad
And left behind the freedom of the past.
Beneath the earth the falling leaves of Paradise
Will never tell you where you gonna be again:
No truth, no love, no power.
And may be only the reflections of the beauty
Will help to stay awake.
Still, the rebel is pure.
All revolutions are sad
And left behind the freedom of the past.
Beneath the earth the falling leaves of Paradise
Will never tell you where you gonna be again:
No truth, no love, no power.
And may be only the reflections of the beauty
Will help to stay awake.
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