In all these years everything’s turned out to be fake, but every time when I was down I started again. Hear the sound of our dying voices inside, hear them singing their last goodbye.
I walked off and left the good old things behind. I always carried my dreams with me. Learned how to see ‘cause I was born blind. From that on nothing made sense to me.
In all these years everything’ turned out to be a mistake, I’m miles away from starting this all over again. I miss the sound of the previous voices from time to time, I miss them singing one last time.
I walked off and left the good old things behind. I always carried my dreams with me. Learned how to see ‘cause I was born blind. Learned how to steal the things that had always been mine. Learned how to reach an impossibility.
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