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The afternoon has gently passed me by The evening spreads its sail against the sky O ye of little faith You follow in my step We crumble on the ground before you dry... The universe is but a question mark Hangs above my head there in the dark O ye of little hope I thought that I could croak The truth has stretched you far from me,too far... Oh Pilate, you speak to me so clear Your voice of hell has filled my soul with fear O ye of little blood You call lies in the mud You hands are always washing them... The afternoon has gently passed me by The evening spreads its sail against the sky O ye of little faith You follow in my step We crumble on the ground before you dry... Oh Pilate, you speak to me so clear Your voice of hell has filled my soul with fear O ye of little blood You call lies in the mud You hands are always washing them... Please fill in the fields below and click SUBMIT to send it to your friend.
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