|
There are marks, |
|
Where we once walked, |
|
In buildings, |
|
Bridges and roads. |
|
Left for the memory, |
|
Of what we had, |
|
For the rememberance of how days once left, |
|
Without leaving us this empty. |
|
You saw through the veil, |
|
The coating that covers, |
|
The coming day. |
|
Some things they're just, |
|
Too good to remain. |
|
Some things they're just, |
|
Too good to remain. |
|
You saw through the veil, |
|
Left not to be part of a surrounding dying. |
|
Some things they're just, |
|
Too good to remain. |
|
Some things they're just, |
|
Too good to remain. |
