اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Exchange by vanity, or inaction
Can't make sense of it all sometimes
Pouring poison in my soul's brook
Will i live to see much more
With all these grey hairs on my soul
The disorder has grown to great
I long to feel something more
Trapped in a prison
Of chloral hydrate.
Can i rise above?
At my funeral
I don't want any doves.
