اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
How delicate is our fate
Elegant is our hate
Like a dried out rose used to mark the end of our book
Distance separated by a flame that we are all drawn to
Tears cannot vanquish this life set ablaze
So we dance along the misshaped line of one thousand soldiers at war with themselves
Self-sacrifice can only hide the guilt inside
So we hide our faces in the ashes of our past
Unable to look back
And I can see the end of this path laid out for me
It drags me along and when I try to hold back my legs fail me
So I scream to the sound of all the tortured souls who have come and burnt before me
Can I be placed aside?
So what I dread may pass
Or is it my destiny to suffer the consequences of loving my grave
Covered in blood red roses and surrounded by a circle of paper cut out hearts
How was I to know this spark we had would kill us all?
