گیت کے بول کے نقاط
ENاصل بول
ترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Broken hands, so sans soleil
It lights my way through these
Empty streets at night
Dragging heels, the cold air stabs me
Like a needle running with this thread
Scissors cut me dead and gone
Living like the blade I carry
I never thought of you
Living all alone,
Scissors cut me dead I never felt
Like anyone could ever be
So far from home
The day begins
When the music ends its days
Like these that I
Wish I were somewhere else.
And I can't forget my own name
Replace it with a voice
That carries on
