A bitter tear smashes the surface.
Happiness spreads it's wings, never to return.
Blackness now the state of mind, an endless age of suffering.
A statue it speaks words never to be spoken.
Forced entries opens up the soul like never healing wounds.
Will it ever disappear?
It's beautiful like moonlight touching water.
It's painful, a being torn to shreds.
It's magnificent like perfection itself.
It's awful, a being fading on the shelf.
Endless cries above and below.
Prayers they stay unheard like the silence of a world, fading into nothingness.
Time has left us in the cold, still the fires are burning.
While everything is getting old, except the sorrow in the snow.
The Joy Of Sorrow Video (MV)
A Canorous Quintet - The Joy Of Sorrow Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
A bitter tear smashes the surface.
Happiness spreads it's wings, never to return.
Blackness now the state of mind, an endless age of suffering.
A statue it speaks words never to be spoken.
Forced entries opens up the soul like never healing wounds.
Will it ever disappear?
It's beautiful like moonlight touching water.
It's painful, a being torn to shreds.
It's magnificent like perfection itself.
It's awful, a being fading on the shelf.
Endless cries above and below.
Prayers they stay unheard like the silence of a world, fading into nothingness.
Time has left us in the cold, still the fires are burning.
While everything is getting old, except the sorrow in the snow.
Happiness spreads it's wings, never to return.
Blackness now the state of mind, an endless age of suffering.
A statue it speaks words never to be spoken.
Forced entries opens up the soul like never healing wounds.
Will it ever disappear?
It's beautiful like moonlight touching water.
It's painful, a being torn to shreds.
It's magnificent like perfection itself.
It's awful, a being fading on the shelf.
Endless cries above and below.
Prayers they stay unheard like the silence of a world, fading into nothingness.
Time has left us in the cold, still the fires are burning.
While everything is getting old, except the sorrow in the snow.