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Empire sits on the edge of a hill
Born out of a gypsum mine
Held at once 300 souls
And none of them were mine

Now they’re just ghosts in the streets
Wandering a land that sleeps

Once it was a lively place
Now just tumbleweeds
The houses they are silent
Quiet as thieves

Now they’re just ghosts in the streets
Wandering a land that sleeps

The miners callused hands
The women who planted seed on the land
Empire met its end

Once you’re gone you can’t go back
the locks they have all froze
The lid upon the coffin
Now it has been closed
bv

Now they’re just ghosts in the streets
Wandering a land that sleeps


The men who built the Empire
Up from the ground
missed the cracks in the foundation
One blow and it all falls down

The miners callused hands
The women who planted seed on the land
Empire met its end

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Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.