Оригинален текст
Underground fire. A heavy, liquid sheet of heat. Weaving
patterns into the ghost of the Earth. Quicksilver burns;
Bearing the weight ... Of change.
Baby's in her hour ((heart?))) of darkness
And they think she feels it's hopeless
Disconnected from the dance hall ((?))
______ on her heart of purple ((?))
Is this passion or ... Your red tide ...
Is this faces of a bleak expression
Taking on her tones of depression ((?))
Tis the season's witching hour ((?))
As the summer loses power
Is this passion or ... Your red tide....
Baby's breaking your kiss goodnight ((?))
This is where her heart will not die
Is this passion or ... Your red tide
Your red tide
Your red tide