Besedila: Mourning September. The Damage.

Here once again
What can I do with this, in my heart once again?
Why would I do this, without your hand in mine, without time?
When I feel nothing
When my head spins from the damage
When I feel nothing
Here once again
Do this thing in my heart, in my heart once again
Why would we ever part, without your hand in mine, without time?
When I feel nothing
When my head spins from the damage
When I feel nothing
When my head spins from your absence
It's your whisper sweetheart.