Memories, are just memories that I remember the pain, suffering, the cry for help of people who lived in hell. This may be just a dream or reality, no matter the time lost to us was very, we can only wait for death quietly in the silence of darkness.
Who will heal us of the cuts of the time?
I look at me, and I see I am merely the result of my own imagination, I'm just an empty body, cold and soulless.
Every day that passes, the pain grows, it will manifest and killing me slowly.
Who will heal us of the cuts of the time?
There are no answers to justify something that never existed, there are no answers to justify our existence, we never existed, and perhaps never will be.
Who will heal us of the cuts of the time?(2x)
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