Artyści na literę:
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Utwory na literę:
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Utwory na literę:
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Pieces
- wykonawca: 40 Grit
- album: Nothing to Remember
The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
Where are you now in this mess you have made?
I'm leaving you here, to fend for your own.
I cannot help I am already gone.
{Chorus}
Pieces of dreams cannot kill the touch only the mind.
These little pieces of things I've grown to hate so much.
Delivered and burned, you see how it works
I could explain, but I'd feel like a jerk.
I close my eyes and feed your pain.
Helpless ritual, ritual habits sustained
{Chorus}
Pieces of dreams cannot kill the touch only the mind.
These little pieces of dreams I've grown to hate so much.
What about the de-compassion
that is in the movement on the wheels that we ride?
Kill your life!
{after chorus}
Can I believe that I need someone, to make me feel like I am special?
To lie beneath a snail with no one, and feel like a million voices.
With a poor excuse I'm guilty. With the blood on my hands you'll see.
Hide in the ruins that you've ruined, when you couldn't see...
Running lost intertwined with a weak compromise,
lacking a soul with the will to survive.
Repeat
{chorus}
- album: Nothing to Remember
The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
Where are you now in this mess you have made?
I'm leaving you here, to fend for your own.
I cannot help I am already gone.
{Chorus}
Pieces of dreams cannot kill the touch only the mind.
These little pieces of things I've grown to hate so much.
Delivered and burned, you see how it works
I could explain, but I'd feel like a jerk.
I close my eyes and feed your pain.
Helpless ritual, ritual habits sustained
{Chorus}
Pieces of dreams cannot kill the touch only the mind.
These little pieces of dreams I've grown to hate so much.
What about the de-compassion
that is in the movement on the wheels that we ride?
Kill your life!
{after chorus}
Can I believe that I need someone, to make me feel like I am special?
To lie beneath a snail with no one, and feel like a million voices.
With a poor excuse I'm guilty. With the blood on my hands you'll see.
Hide in the ruins that you've ruined, when you couldn't see...
Running lost intertwined with a weak compromise,
lacking a soul with the will to survive.
Repeat
{chorus}