Promises of tomorrow are the hammering nights of today. Blankly I stare into the void, hints of dawn sleepily emerge.
Wars waged before my eyes.
When the darkness dissipates, I will still be without any answers.
I can't save you... I'm too late...
I wade drearily through the guilt and the shame in a myopic acceptance that there is not atonement. Sleeplessness makes the morning so stark, so frail, so callous.
Still I wait.
The day star crawls to its peak and all but sets me aflame. One foot in front of the other and I dutifully wait.
You aren't coming. I know that now. Still I wait - for meaning.
Meaning (that) was stolen. And abandoned.
The sun never sets over this failure. And in that endless noon no one can forgive me.
What should I have said? The answers never come.
The answers refuse to come. Lapsing too are those promises.
When the darkness dissipates, I will still be without any answers.
I can't save you... I'm too late...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
