Текст: Pale Saints. Featherframe.

Losing everything
The frame on which you hang
The constant (? ? ? )
The source of pain

Losing everything
That she should bring


Waking up the ? ? ?
Held inside the



Moving space is left to take your place
Of colours against the grain
Feel glass eyes
Waking up the ? ? ?
Held inside the


He says waking up the ? ? ?