В подвале клуба любителей тавтологии обнаружен смертельно убитый труп погибшего мертвеца.
With no one wearing their real face
It's a whiteout of emotion
And I've only got my brittle bones
To break the fall

When the love in letters fade
It's like moving in slow motion
And we're already too late if we arrive at all

And then we're caught up in the arms race
An involuntary addiction
And we're shedding every value our mothers taught

So will you please show me your real face
Draw the line in the horizon
'Cos I only need you name
To call the reasons why I fought


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@темы: no music no life