The Tremor

Nothing hurts like the truth, a piece of perfidy, a deceitful behaviour,
Women's lures, deserted like an empty corpse, an uneasy conscience.

Stigmatised in hell, he's puffed up with conceit,
There will come a day of retribution, they're just lost dreams,
Cursed to crawl between hypocrites and vain promises,
My heart bleeds.

[CHORUS:]
The tremor of leaves in the breeze.

You can't weigh up, where does this road lead,
At whose door should the blame lie?
The lie lay heavy on his conscience.

[CHORUS]