Odtwarzanie przez Spotify Odtwarzanie przez YouTube
Przejdź do wideo YouTube

Ładowanie odtwarzacza...

Scrobblujesz ze Spotify?

Powiąż swoje konto Spotify ze swoim kontem Last.fm i scrobbluj wszystko czego słuchasz z aplikacji Spotify na każdym urządzeniu lub platformie.

Powiąż ze Spotify

Usuń

Tekst

It is the mind which creates the world about us
And even though we stand side by side
My eyes will never see what is beheld by yours
My heart won't respond to your touch

Out of the caverns of the pain
Like a child from the womb, stillborn
Like a ghost from the tomb
I arise and unbuild it again

Kontynuacja tekstu utworu poniżej...

Nie chcesz oglądać reklam? Ulepsz teraz

We don't see things as they are
We see them as we are
And all that we see or seem to be
(Is but a dream within a dream)
I see life blurred and shallow every day by day
In this world's theater (in which I stay)

Three death gently descends from spheres up high
Staring into my cold and humid eyes
You're closing your eyes, try turning your head
Away from the gloom, trying to forget

But when I start to laugh, she mocks
And when I cry, she laughs
(And hardens evermore her heart)
When I start to laugh, she mocks
And when I cry, she laughs

All things come to those who wait
I say these words to make me glad
But something answers soft and sad
"They come, but often come too late"

We don't see things as they are
We see them as we are
And all that we see or seem to be
(Is but a dream within a dream)
I see life blurred and shallow every day by day
In this world's theater (in which I stay)

Three death gently descends from spheres up high
Staring into my cold and humid eyes
You're closing your eyes, try turning your head
Away from the gloom, trying to forget

But something answers soft and sad
"They come, but often come too late"

'Cause I am sick of this way of life
As life is sick of the way we pretend
But I have walked with death hand in hand
And death's own hand is warmer than my own

Out of the caverns of the pain
Like a child from the womb, stillborn
Like a ghost from the tomb
I arise and unbuild it again

We don't see things as they are
We see them as we are
And all that we see or seem to be
(Is but a dream within a dream)
I see life blurred and shallow every day by day
In this world's theater (in which I stay)

All things come to those who wait
I say these words to make me glad
But something answers soft and sad
"They come, but often come too late"

Writer(s): Felix Walzer, Martin Wickler, Jan Jansohn

Nie chcesz oglądać reklam? Ulepsz teraz

Podobne utwory

API Calls