Realization comes through reaping Reality contained in quiet My companions are walking corpses I am buried with your words Turn their backs to me Scared to see the ghost Turned and walked away Scared to see the ghost Time to go one last look, one last touch. A ghost to those I love Time to go one last look, one last touch. Goodbye to those I love So close So close to separation A ghost without a grave A ghost without a name So close
Версия для печати