گیت کے بول کے نقاط
ENاصل بول
ترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
A castle spun from fragile thread
The walls are high, but it’s all in my head
No flags wave here, no trumpets cry
Just the murmur of me, myself, and I
Who needs a throne when the sky is wide?
Who seeks the crowd when the heart won’t hide?
In the threadbare kingdom, I claim my space
With every crack, I find my grace
Each brick I lay with trembling hand
A fortress built on shifting sand
But still, I stand, the monarch proud
Though the world outside grows ever loud
