No promises to keep No excuses to believe A window and a book Black window as a look
Walls. Black. Anesthetized from emotions. Lines. Cracked. Burning into an opaque mirror.
A knife A trembling hand, veins are so naked The sky The purest eyes inhale the soul
Soul is a rare thing Some are hidden, some are killed
Breathing alone and blind No one lies, no one cries
Stay alone to slight Or make the creed commits a suicide
A soul can’t heal It dies – and if is strong – it revivesTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
