Texty: Chimaera. Other. Melancholy Returns.

From the filth of dawn
another day I spend in despair

I search for something real but there's nothing left,
except these scars we have become.
Accept these scars we have become.

Where are your colours that used to paint my sky?
You wasted all my dreams, I never felt this sick.
Your eyes I trusted but they turned out to be a lie?

Your beauty is just cruelty, a remnant of disease.
I want to make you feel my pain
I want to make you feel
Just to see how you would deal
Just to see how you would bleed

Cause we are dead when we're alone
Yeah we are nothing when we?re on our own