歌词
This is the world you've taken from me...
Cold, distorted...
Alone, I face the truth...
Nothing left for me in my youth.
There are wounds that never show on the body
that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.
We humans suffer more in imagination than reality
Will anyone ever see?
Some people feel like they don't deserve love.
Others despise it, avoid it
All this proves is that
The good times of today are the sad thoughts of tomorrow.
In shadows they wander, with hearts turned to stone,
Seeking solace in silence, forever alone.
The echoes of laughter, now whispers of pain,
The sunshine of youth, overshadowed by rain.
Their dreams lie in fragments, like shards of a mirror,
Reflecting a past that grows dimmer, yet clearer.
They dance with their ghosts in the moon’s pallid light,
Embracing the solitude, the long, endless night.
“I think therefore I am,”
But what am I if all I think is death?
In the depths of winter, I finally learned
That within me there lay an invincible summer.
But summers fade and winters stay,
An endless cycle of forgotten warmth.
“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself,”
Yet fear is the very fabric of my being,
A cloak I wear in the darkened halls
Of my own mind, where shadows whisper.
[Instrumental section]
“The unexamined life is not worth living,”
Yet in my examination, I find only sorrow,
A labyrinth of reflections, each more haunting,
Each a reminder of what I can never grasp.
“All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players,”
But my role seems forgotten, my lines unsaid
Where am I to head?
“The unexamined life is not worth living,”
Yet in my examination, I find only sorrow,
A labyrinth of reflections, each more haunting,
Each a reminder of what I can never grasp.
“All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players,”
But my role seems forgotten, my lines unsaid
Where am I to head?
"Time heals all wounds," they reassure,
But some scars cut deep and pure.
What if time's a trick, a veil,
And some wounds simply never pale?
"Knowledge is power," they chant,
yet power often corrupts,
and the wise know the strength
of nothing
nothing...
nothing...
what is nothing?
In the silence between words, we find our true voice.
As wisdom often resides in the questions, not the answers.
Sometimes, the most profound truths are felt, not spoken,
And to find oneself, one must be willing to lose oneself first.
our true voice.
As wisdom often resides in the questions, not the answers.
Sometimes, the most profound truths are felt, not spoken,
And to find oneself, one must be willing to lose oneself first.
