Слова:
Thousand Falling Skies The Wilting

Seems as the world has swallowed us whole. No such thing as being young at heart. There's no heart left here anyways. Nothing to sooth the pain of everyday

I've got a shovel with your name on it. And a burial plot to bury my thoughts. Each day the days get so much bitter. This is no place for the weak hearted

re-run, rewind your dead to her now. I wish it had been so easy to tell you. How much I cherished every moment. And I would walk a thousand miles. To

Well now the skies have turned auburn. But somehow your perfume still lingers. Somehow certain words should have been said. To keep these fires burning

I can't open my mouth to say the words. I want to say to you. Instead I'll just close my eyes. And wish you well on your way. Out of my arms. Out of