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• Artiste: A-Bros
• Titre: File Under: Missing Persons
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With a note of destruction, All cradled inside. Born out of nothing, With a crown that you hide. Raised with the pretend, Of a liftime in chains. Stucked with the boredom, And a cry out for change. Too late save this, All of the dead, fears. I melt with your apathy, Find what controls you. To complete all your wishes, Could I be there too? Is this cut to deep? Wrists crying red, tears. Too late save this, All of the dead, fears. Mental pause conversation, With ghosts in the past. You fall apart in shadows, Of a life half-mast. With release it was called of, They were serching for you. False prediction of loss, to strife for a clue. I have not tasted the light, But seen whats there. Odessy for something better, You can't find here. Friend, I see myself in you, And that hurts, To find the apathy. I wanted to be you, But nothin like you. I really miss those moments. Enemy, I see myself in you, And it hurts, As we are melting. I will remember you, Will you forget me? I really miss these moments. Do you miss those moments?