And to reflect is to regret throwing it all away And apathy my one way street it took so much from me Separated by this divide I created through my fears
And to reflect is to regret throwing it all away And apathy, my one way street, it took so much from me Separated by this divide I created through my
Översättning: Darkest Hour. Med tusen ord att säga men en.
And to reflect is to regret throwing it all away And apathy, my one way street, it took so much from me Separated by this divide I created through
the street And Huh Huh! Beat Street is a lesson too, because you can't let the Streets beat you! Well a picture can express a thousand words to describe
roam the Earth For what it's worth My birthday I turn a-thousand-twenty-six Stood before the sun to evade an eclipse Press your lips to your fingertips Don't say a word
old guitar Coming through the paper thin walls A crazy nonsense nursery rhyme That did not mean a thing But for the first of what was to be a thousand
for what it's worth My birthday I turned A thousand-twentysix Stood before the sun to evade an eclipse Press your lips to your finger tips Don't say a word
waist Here a ring, there a ring Everywhere a ring a ling But always in the best of taste [Roxie Hart (recitative whisper)] Oooh I'm a star. And the audience
important of spells. Convinced that this young man was ready, he joined with his spirit and gave him these words. a??Sanasha Gorath Sollis Arcanna,a?? Words
was parted, into these straight at the narrow gate, but why that's a road to destruction and hate What you thought life was a sport? A game? One hundred
For 24 hours, 21 thousand Nautical miles Don't be upset with Canibus yet, the kids just want respect You been a success but what do he get? Devine design, a
play Imminent defeat is all but assured But in the darkest hour Whispers begin to tell of a figure emerging from the darkness A being without a name
Sea was parted, into these straight at the narrow gate, but why that's a road to destruction and hate What you thought life was a sport? A game? One hundred
to play Imminent defeat is all but assured But in the darkest hour Whispers begin to tell of a figure emerging from the darkness A being without a name
