IRC-Galleria

We suffer everyday,
What is it for,
These crimes of illusion
Are fooling us all,
And now I am weary,
And I feel like I do.
It's only you,
Who can tell me apart,
And it's only you,
Who can turn my wooden heart.
The size of our fight,
It's just a dream,
We've crushed everything,
I can see, in this morning selfishly,
How we've failed,
And I feel like I do.
It's only you,
Who can tell me apart,
And it's only you,
Who can turn my wooden heart.
Now that we've chosen to take all we can,
This shade of autumn, a stale bitter end,
Years of frustration lay down side by side.
And It's only you,
Who can tell me apart,
And it's only you,
Who can turn my wooden heart.
It's only you,
Who can tell me apart,
And it's only you,
Who can turn my wooden heart.