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Story of​.​.

from From Nails to Velvet by At Folsom Prison

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lyrics

The stone walls which he touched at least a hundred times,
He pressed the nails deep in the skin not knowing whether it’s a dream or reality.

The pulse rate was still high
Spiderwebs reminding him of the web of his thoughts shivered steadily

A pleading voice and a vision of a morning dawn he almost hadn’t known
He wrote the story he found himself in into the dust on the floor

Memories remained pressed deep, only sleep became his sanctuary
A beautiful landscape, growth, trees, a scent carried by the symphony of recollections

Sometimes the dreams went black and awakening was heavy like a tar left in these walls
Snow was falling, crying and waited for the small impulse of hope

For the passing movement behind the doors which still are a great unknown

credits

from From Nails to Velvet, released February 15, 2013

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At Folsom Prison Prague, Czech Republic

Post-hardcore from Prague, Czech Republic

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