Текст песни: In the Garden (Collecting Souls) + перевод

Sitting in-between the black and white

Part of him is in the gray, the angel’s on his way

Giving up for small amounts of pain; your sense, it multiplies

It’s reaching out to claim it’s rightful grave

Take my hand…

I’ll bring you home…

Riding on the edge of sanity

Playing with a cigarette next to the gasoline

Never stopped to pay attention to the common sense direction

Ignorance, gone up with you it seems

Take my hand, take my hand

Oh I’ll bring you home…

Take my hand, take my hand

I’ll bring you —

Time to bring you in to me

And take away the agony

Resolve you from the dead who would bury you with lies

Faced with all the suffering

Through the door and back again

Pull you from the common and the shit you call 'Your life'

And I’m standing

Right in the open here

And it’s freezing

Stealing the life of

All that is breathing

Created order

For things to see

Pleasure

You’re just another

Trophy of mine

Take my hand…

I’ll bring you home…

Things are never really what they seem

A broken line is on the phone and no one heard his scream

Don’t have much to do, sorry

Offer this alternative to you

Take my hand, take my hand

I’ll bring you home…

Time to bring you in to me

And take away the agony

Resolve you from the dead who would bury you with lies

Faced with all the suffering

Through the door and back again

Pull you from the common and the shit you call 'Your life'

And I’m standing

Right in the open here

And it’s freezing

Stealing the life of

All that is breathing

Created order

For things to see

Pleasure

You’re just another

Trophy of mine

God help you die

Alive…

Oh things are never really what they seem

Life into me, it is never ending

And it’s dying off, into the misery

And as often as you tell it to me

'Let God help you die'

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