كلمات The Machine

Alone these hands are hollow, calming echo And now the night approaches, dark tide swallows The night it peaks to whisper, here I follow... Slowly separate become machine, Marching one by one while washing clean. Alone they found me empty. Here I go down before Alone with one eye open, capture my shadow And as the night approaches, dark tide swallows The night it peaks to whisper, here I follow... Slowly separate become machine. Marching one by one they're washing clean again Slowly separate become machine... Colors fade to numbers steal my everything