This life is bare
& cold
& I am old
& tired of truth
& cold
& I am old
& tired of truth
Must we forever
Make our History
In this Cold
Country?
Who will accuse us
If we choose
To dream -
To take a World
Already made -
To sit before
A fire that warms
& not to ask
Who built it, or
What burns?
Encontrou algum erro na letra? Por favor envie uma correção clicando aqui!