اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
My words spill onto the floor
They lose their taste when they're lukewarm
The don't mean a thing
I've sunk into the room and
Lost heat and the dead air in
I don't feel a thing
In apathetic torpor
I'm lost in quiet torture
I can't feel a thing
I watch the future unfold
Plans and emotions seem futile
It wouldn't change a thing
I couldn't name the demon
The noonday sloth that creeps in
Into the abbott's mind
Exaggerating time
There's danger in passivity
The lion pounced and swallowed me
Trapped behind the teeth
Of foul acedia
From the end of
The earth I call
My heart is faint
With no more strength
Bring my soul out
Of this prison
And then I shall
Praise your name
