If I could only posses a bit of your warmthBut I never willIf you could only accept me as your last way outBut you never will
This house is desolate and sick so sad and coldIt is mineI fall apart every time I think of yoursSuch inviting walls
The eyes are bleedingThe core is burning up
Bursting into tearsAlone on the floor
Accustomed to emptinessAs the beauty to sadnessAnd her world is getting dark too darkThis endless meaninglessnessIs enfolding our thoughts lessThan the pretence of happinessAnd her world is getting frail
(Like) A falling glass in slow-motionBrokenShattering skiesHave exposed our deepest and worst liesAnd now the constructor is lost in error