Wrong, it's wrong, so wrong that's not over gone,
it's gone, so go on it can tip over
even if sometimes the subsoil of dark minds remains
we know also that everything can tip over
bone, my bones, one bone and flesh under lone,
with none, alone, can breath louder
the taste of the sky, of the wind and sun
those counted hours, more than anything
and i know you're there, my friends
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
