On the edge of cliff over which is only eon
You're standing alone in power of strange dreams,
Want to be so careless taking leave of this world
And to play with fire of those dreams.
Finally you're happy unlike any other,
You've been blowing to the sky by angel dust,
The delight and wind are only in its power,
In the "liquid sky" your laughter sounds.
Angel dust for thee
Is a dream and reality!
You're mad runaway, there's no way out,
You're seeing unfaithful light,
Your angel has lit mirage of fire
To kill you – that's his desire!
On the edge of cliff there's sound of songs from heaven,
Music of the gods and voices of their queens,
You are soaring 'bove the world, but trader of the heaven
He will take your heart and soul for heroin.
Tired of being bird you fell down as a stone,
Fell down from the height escaping from the fate.
To the edge of cliff hundreds of moths are flying
To commit their suicide into the flame.
Angel dust for thee Is a dream and reality!
You're mad runaway, there's no way out,
You're seeing unfaithful light,
Your angel has lit mirage of fire
To kill you – that's his desire!
.
