Besedila: Zao. Autopsy.

And what shall I do?
I try to speak and words stop short of my tongue
They make their way back to my thoughts

Still crafted by a still soul
I move my eyes around
Trying to find a place to rest
I can't see it but I feel the light

Someone tell us we are loved
Someone take the pain away
Someone fill up the void
Someone fix my broken heart

Are you that someone?
Are you that someone?
Are you that someone?

Are you that someone?
Are you that someone?
Are you that someone?