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lycria live - dichromatic lotus butterfly كلمات الأغنية

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a pack of humans… no, a pack of villains… no, a pack of strangers wander in freely
who else would wind up here, inside a land so strange, except the very strangest of beings?
in keeping up a fence, in keeping up an act, one has to wonder, how much longer?
a precious treasure placed before a stubborn thief, the curious eye’s urges grow stronger

no… nothing in this world will remain the same
now as we are gathered, time to begin this most beautiful game

what’s inside the heart of an honest girl
drifting like a star in the sky?
here tonight is one fewer honest girl…
now that she’s embracing her lie! (ha ha ha!)

i’m sworn to keep the peace, but can there ever be peace without a fight?
each story is a dream __ to struggle through the day, dancing through the night

so… nothing in this world will remain the same
now as we are gathered, time to begin this most beautiful game

what’s inside the heart of an honest man
beating at the edge of a knife?
here tonight is one fewer honest man…
now that someone’s taken his life! (ha ha ha!)

i say, what will it take to taint the perfect world, paint it bl__dy red?
oh, just the final trace of sympathy in me, long already dead
i’m sworn to keep it pure, but is there such a thing as the purest white?
each day, the numbers change __ but always there’s a balance to make it right
no rest for the wary…
no commendation for the most early to rise…
here we play like children, until we are not
welcome to my paradise

a pack of humans… no, a pack of monsters… no, a pack of puppets wander in slowly
who else would wind up here, pitched on the strings of fate, and act a play out, broken and lowly?
unlike a human, unaware of even just how monstrous it is to be human
i’ll choose to take this mask and do the deed myself, become a monster here with my own hand

i say, what will it take to taint the perfect world, paint it bl__dy red?
oh, just the final trace of sympathy in me, long already dead
i’m sworn to keep it pure, but is there such a thing as the purest white?
each day, the numbers change __ but always there’s a balance to make it right

two colors clash again, though different as can be, never far apart
no answer purely right, as surely as there’s no purely honest heart

no pity for cowards…
no puzzle lacking in a challenge for the wise…
here we are all equals, until we are not
welcome to my paradise. (“paradise.”)

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