Screens Songtext
von Whispering Sons

She′s doing her most famous impression
Passionately projecting all her feigned obsessions
Some fresh flesh unstained
On your stage
It's a head on your wall and a face on your screen
Well, it′s obscene to assume that she wants to be seen
A harsh flash, she's chained
To your gaze
She's doing her most famous impression
Passionately projecting all her feigned obsessions
Some fresh flesh unstained
On your stage
Oh, but lost in chagrin, her play turns tragic
A manic eruption, a grotesque panic
Her limbs twitch, deranged
A new state
She′s no longer a woman
She′s no longer a woman She's no longer a person to talk to
To look for and talk to, a woman
To look for and talk to
She′s no longer a woman
She's no longer a woman
She′s merely a body to look at
A monstrous body to look at
A vile body pouring from all sides
Blood-drenched and sweat soaked and teary-eyed
Her flesh cries but don't avert your eyes
Her flesh cries but don′t avert your eyes
Her flesh cries but don't avert your eyes
Her flesh cries but don't avert your eyes
Are those tears supposed to resemble emotions?
Are those tears supposed to resemble emotions?
Are those tears supposed to resemble emotions?
Are those tears supposed to resemble emotions?