اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Here lie those dreaded faults to behold, of true and of not
Embedded in our tale unbegot
Stones hold their energy and some stars speak in code
Forgetting that their words travel slow
I feel the waning breadth of your loathe
When it comes
I sense the depths from which we emerge
When it comes
I see the shackles hang that bound for so long
And when it comes, we've just begun
When it comes
There hang the ripened fruits of our hope
Run through like a host; a calloused soul that begs for the just
Beholden there we'll loom and grow, unknown and untouched
Unbroken still, we shelter as such
I feel the waning breadth of your loathe
When it comes
I sense the depths from which we emerge
When it comes
I see the shackles hang that bound for so long
And when it comes, we've just begun
When it comes, when it comes
In the weighted air, in the ashen flare
We brace against the absolute
In the weighted air, in the ashen flare
We brace against the absolute
I feel the waning breadth of your loathe
When it comes
I sense the depths from which we emerge
When it comes
I see the shackles hang that bound for so long
And when it comes, we've just begun
When it comes, when it comes
