Текст: Dying Wish. Fading.
A Face in the mirror
Smiling at me
whispers the words
Through the glint
Conscience fading
I make war on you
And fan the flames
What else could I do
'cause
The
Sands are running out
And my
Pain is burning
Smiling at me
whispers the words
Through the glint
Conscience fading
I make war on you
And fan the flames
What else could I do
'cause
The
Sands are running out
And my
Pain is burning
Dying Wish