Şarkı sözü koordinatları
ENOrijinal sözler
Çeviri henüz yok. Orijinal sözler gösteriliyor.
A room of ivory, walls too tall
No door, no key, no sound at all
What is owned, is never free
What is held, will cease to be
A hand that clutches, turns to dust
The tighter grasp, the faster rust
What is owned, is never free
What is held, will cease to be
A hand that clutches, turns to dust
The tighter grasp, the faster rust
