Asylums for abandoned dreams And aborted revolutions The echoes of a dying mind It's only the faces that change
And you walk again Along that thin white line A poem for the dead A refuge for the weak
Staring through a photograph Do you ever wonder how you're still holding on? This is what you've become And you're no longer in control
Pictures of white fences on the cover of a housewives' magazine There is so much left to lose Her portrait is still hanging on the wall
From the bottom of an empty glass your own reflection points and laughs There is so much left to lose And you're no longer in control
Staring through a photograph Do you ever wonder how you're still holding on? This is what you've become And you're no longer in controlTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
