Текст: Dead Hearts. Other. Waking.
I remember dreams my father had
And how I saw them slip through his hands
I never thought of him as a broken man
But there is sorrow behind his laugh
Thirty, forty, fifty years
And a lifetime of tears
We gotta wake up, we gotta wake up
Thirty, forty, fifty years
And a lifetime of fears
We gotta wake up, we gotta wake up
I remember things my mother said
That at that time didn't make much sense
She never spoke of disappointments
But behind her eyes, I see regret
In the shadow of our parents' dreams
In the shadows, we no longer sleep
Dead Hearts
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