Long days caught in his room. Trapped in the gloom of the dying light. His heart pleads through the wounds that he bleeds. The wounds he never can close.
What a dream you still love me whoa. Is it my imagination?. For we reached to one against all white. Left smoke in your eyes. And they were offering me good advice.
We choke on the poison wind. Well, these sad eyes can tell the story. Walk along an empire's path. And you said you'd come back again. . But you talk to yourself.
Sun shines on my face, how its golden design. Rain falls in this place and the fields come alive. Days are only rumors we've wasted, we cross the millions.
The days were golden we were known to be. We won't escape this memory forward on to the place we sail. All to believe when you raise an iron hand. This place without a song for all, the words just crawl.
Lost myself, when pain from your heart left its trace. In written words, held like a seam. I have no hand to heal. I can't imagine your emotions wrapped around.