3 acessos
Sent to the liars
With my neck being hung by the wires
Climbed out to feel
All the spiders below at my heels
Rush to the trees
But the dark-coated ones heard us breathe
Rather than yield
We could drown in a pond by the field
Younger than who came before
Lost all that was built and stored
Who will know what became of us?
Ending on, the saddest note that ever was
Calendar, Post life calendar
Find out who's there
Hide the key to the diary there
Run through the snow
And our blood is like ice to the bone
We'll make a way
They won't find even hints or a trace
Buried in fields
All the soil fills and covers our grief
Younger than who came before
Lost all that was built and stored
Who will know what became of us?
Ending on, the saddest note that ever was
Calendar, Post life calendar