His face is young His hands are old The past is empty Blind and cold (A ton of sand at my feet Each a speck in a space All collecting in a mass Pressure changing its shape Its direction, its purpose)
All the sweat On his back Grabs the dirt It stains his shirt (As the sea tears it away from the land More is pushed back Each different Each separate) Push all day He rests at night Do some hobbies Drink to forget (All has changed and nothing has changed When the momentum stops, the machine will die For some reason we're not alone)Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
