Text: Herbert GráƒÂ¶nemeyer. Demo (Last Day) ENGLISH.

Does one know, how often a heart can break?
How much sense have does the illusion?
Are feelings worthwhile themselves?

How do many tears fit into a channel?
Do we live once again?
Why does one wake up?
What heals the time?

I am your 7. Sense,
Your double soil,
Your second face.
You are an intelligent prognosis,
the principle hope,
a shining strip from the night.
Find and I you dear sometime...

I am one of your colors,
can select me, it can carry,
It can bleach.
Betrayal you all secret numbers,
Become you the boldest dreams paint,
Become you explain, about which I nothing understand.

I am your 7. Sense,
Your double soil,
Your second face.
You are a safe prognosis,
the principle hope,
a shining strip from the night.
Find and I you dear sometime...

The life flows red into our Venen,
I serve dir's on a golden tray.
You get me from the grey valley of the tears,
All miracles let happen at one time,
That me hearing and seeing pass.

I am your 7. Sense,
Your double soil,
Your second face.
A favourite color,
Your sportiest car,
Your deepest dipping course,
Your Segelflug.

You are a good prognosis,
The principle hope,
A shining strip from the night.
I find you and dear you more than me.
I dear you more than me.
Find I you sometime.
I find you or not.
I dear you more than me and I find you.
I find you or not.