歌词
(Verse 1)
In a room with shadowed corners,
Faces blur, time's thief adorns her,
Tangled threads, my mind explores,
Echoes lost, behind closed doors.
Shattered glass on memory’s floor,
Names slip through my hands like shore,
Each moment bleeds into the next,
Haunted whispers, life’s perplexed.
(Pre-Chorus)
Hold on to what’s slipping, grasp the thinning air,
Chasing ghosts of myself, finding nothing there,
Mirrors mock with smiles I used to wear,
In the silence, I find, a stark and vacant stare.
(Chorus)
Fading silhouettes, in the dance of the forgotten,
Whispers turn to silence, in the stories rotten,
I’m losing myself, in the pages torn and old,
Fading silhouettes, where my memories once strolled.
(Verse 2)
Can you see the colors fade?
In the garden where we played,
Turn around but it’s too late,
Autumn leaves, decide my fate.
Ink runs from the lines I’ve known,
Scripted lives, now overthrown,
Words escape, in winds they’re tossed,
In the war with time, I’ve lost.
(Pre-Chorus)
Cling to the echoes, the remnants of my mind,
Search through the shadows, for the pieces left behind,
Every forgotten laugh, every whisper in the dark,
Tearing at the seams of what defines my heart.
(Pre-Chorus)
Cling to the echoes, the remnants of my mind,
Search through the shadows, for the pieces left behind,
Every forgotten laugh, every whisper in the dark,
Tearing at the seams of what defines my heart.
(Chorus)
Fading silhouettes, in the dance of the forgotten,
Whispers turn to silence, in the stories rotten,
I’m losing myself, in the pages torn and old,
Fading silhouettes, where my memories once strolled.
(Bridge)
Do you remember me, as I was, as I am?
Or am I just a shadow, slipping through your hands?
Drowning in the dusk, of what used to be,
Fighting for a past that’s slowly leaving me.
(Chorus)
Fading silhouettes, in the dance of the forgotten,
Whispers turn to silence, in the stories rotten,
I’m losing myself, in the pages torn and old,
Fading silhouettes, where my memories once strolled.
(Outro)
In the quiet, in the cold,
Where the stories end, untold,
I’m the whisper in the breeze,
Memory’s ghost, on my knees.
