4 acessos
Past the gates
Your soul creates
Lies a path
That radiates
In a world of sterile crowds
We are part of the system
Closed from wisdom
Buried words, running deep
Stinging into a question
Suggestion
In my days
I've not heard
A stronger sound
And I believe
In silence lies
The power to hear
Not in fear
Not being austere
Through the halls
A whisper calls
In a world of broken glass
We are hovering over
A four-leaf clover
But no one knows when to end
And for how long until it's over
In my days
I've not heard
A stronger sound
And I believe
In silence lies
The power to hear
Not in fear
Not being austere