| With days being shadows of grey
|
| We’re blind looking through broken glass
|
| And every heartbeat sounds the same
|
| We’re lost in the city of dust
|
| As words die when leaving our lips
|
| We drown in the seas of regret
|
| No feathers are left on our wings
|
| No reasons for tears to be shed
|
| We’ve taken our path to the end
|
| Our trace under layers of dust
|
| Our anger is broken and spent
|
| Our anger has turned into ice
|
| As words die when leaving our lips
|
| We drown in the seas of regret
|
| No feathers are left on our wings
|
| No reasons for tears to be shed
|
| Maybe when choosing our way
|
| We took the turn that was wrong
|
| Or maybe the city of dust
|
| Is where we have always belonged
|
| Lost in this prison of ice
|
| Covered with layers of dust
|
| Knowing no more who we are
|
| Cold and indifferent we last
|
| Maybe when choosing our way
|
| We took the turn that was wrong
|
| Or maybe the city of dust
|
| Is where we have always belonged
|
| Lost in this prison of ice
|
| Covered with layers of dust
|
| Knowing no more who we are
|
| Cold and indifferent we last |