build Upon these empty hearts False hopes of lossless paradise Gathering False hopes of lossless paradise Gathering together The dead hearts beat as
I've watched them build upon these empty hearts false hope of the lossless paradise gathering together the dead hearts beat as one stillborn comfort
Vertaling: As I Lay Dying. Leë Harte.
: I've watched them build upon these empty hearts false hope of the lossless paradise gathering together the dead hearts beat as one stillborn comfort
Upon these empty hearts I've watched them build Upon these empty hearts False hopes of lossless paradise Gathering together The dead hearts beat as
What can take a dying man And raise him up to life again? What can heal the wounded soul? What can make us white as snow? What can fill the emptiness?
childish without the joy I know that I said I would change I know that I haven't changed A shoulder to lean on and then break/embrace I'm barely breathing
gestures. Nouveau wankers. There's a thousand empty stages waiting for their empty performances, A thousand empty faces waiting for their empty stances
you I lay my head and weep I know this night will be over soon there's another day in sight though darkness falls on empty sheets only you bring in the light I
hand As I gaze in your jaded eyes I pray that this world isn't ending Walking down this road I thought I felt you hold my hand But looking I can see
each retreat another stand Yes we killed the Nazi bastards, they lay dying by the score We made each scarce bullet count, and as the demons ran we killed
night I see a nalo in the rain round street light I stop and look and listen to the sound As the raindrops penetrates the silence all around Alone I
hair and predictable gestures. Nouveau wankers. There's a thousand empty stages waiting for their empty performances, A thousand empty faces waiting for their empty
hands As I gaze in your jaded eyes I pray that this road isn't ending Walking down this road I thought I felt you hold my hand But looking I can see
dyed hair and predictable gestures. Nouveau wankers. There's a thousand empty stages waiting for their empty performances, A thousand empty faces waiting for their empty
the chicks and all the cautions? " I look up the rich quarters and these Ricky Ross' I grew up in broken homes, had to see divorces I was born to Marvin
to the world. He sees his women, wailing and weeping. The mothers of all tragedy and I your brother a broken man curse the day I was born. I ask, what
