اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
You've grown into this faceless mask and empty shell
And, like a ghost of your indulgence, you wear them well.
Still haunting something, by your own hand, lost
And you shiver with the chilling sense
You've saved nothing for yourself...
The lies, the games,
Devoid of guilt or shame
Now you resent what you became
And the reality of only you to blame
You wander through each desperate hour and numbered day
And long to hold each wasted moment spent in vain
Still missing something you've slain so wrecklessly
And ignored it through shortsightedness
The thought that someday you might care
The lies, the games,
Devoid of guilt or shame
Now you resent what you became
And the reality of only you to blame
Now you resent what you became
And the reality of only you to blame
You've grown into this faceless mask and empty shell
And, like a ghost of indulgence, you wear them well
Still haunting something, by your own hand, lost
And you shiver with the chilling sense
You've saved nothing...
Nothing for yourself...
Now you resent what you became
And the reality of only you to blame
