We sing like we are the wind, and burn like fire. A feeling so unheard of, yet so familiar. This is the bridge not to be crossed, but we take in strive and take each step as if it were the last. With each final step we get more lost in our own selfish motives. To be drawn out on paper instead of spoken words. We're all victims to these actions and we all have this guilty conscience. And we're all guilty... But I will stand up and admit to my mistakes. When we can learn to look back and forgive what we've wronged, that is when we can move on! This city is painted black and white.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
