گیت کے بول کے نقاط
ENاصل بول
ترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Inside of this cell
I feel no peace
The voices inside
Haunting me
If I should die
Let it be known
It was all worth the price
Of the pain that I own
The Judge and the jury
The Sinners and Saints
All gather round
Like moth to a flame
The noose and the gallows
The hangman's dead eyes
Death in the distance
Awaiting my demise
Awaiting my demise
A rope tightens around
A silence spreads through
Cold winds surrounds
As my judgement is due
The ground falls beneath me
Struggling for air
I slowly descend
I will not be spared
A dark horse appears
With fire in it's eyes
The rider approaches
As the life leaves my eyes
The veiled hand extends
She says: Son, it's time
Though it's not fair
It's the end of the line
It's the end of the line
For you
