Besedila: Parkway Drive. Five Months.
The night creeps through my bones with a winter's chill, sending shivers down my spine
Like cold hands across my skin
Five months have passed and taken with them every sense of warmth
Until my blood ran cold and life stood still
And still I hold my breath, counting the nights I've stood with my heart in hand
And still I hold my breath, counting the nights.
Waiting for silence to break me down again
If only you could see
See it in my eyes how much it means
Your touch, Your smile
To a heart thats beat has long since given out and given in
The night opens wide, swallowing every sense
Embracing me with emptiness
The hours have become irritations, and I find myself reduced to life's imitation
How can we truly say that we are alive
When everything I see in me is screaming
How can we truly say that we are alive
When everything I see in me is screaming otherwise?
It's screaming otherwise
Cause five months have passed and taken with them every sense of warmth
Until my blood ran cold and life stood still
The hours have become irritations, and I find myself reduced to life's imitation
Like cold hands across my skin
Five months have passed and taken with them every sense of warmth
Until my blood ran cold and life stood still
And still I hold my breath, counting the nights I've stood with my heart in hand
And still I hold my breath, counting the nights.
Waiting for silence to break me down again
If only you could see
See it in my eyes how much it means
Your touch, Your smile
To a heart thats beat has long since given out and given in
The night opens wide, swallowing every sense
Embracing me with emptiness
The hours have become irritations, and I find myself reduced to life's imitation
How can we truly say that we are alive
When everything I see in me is screaming
How can we truly say that we are alive
When everything I see in me is screaming otherwise?
It's screaming otherwise
Cause five months have passed and taken with them every sense of warmth
Until my blood ran cold and life stood still
The hours have become irritations, and I find myself reduced to life's imitation
Parkway Drive
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