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These walls, have eyes,
Rows of photographs of faces like mine,
Who do we become, without knowing where we started from,
It's true, I'm missing you,
And I stand alone, inside your room.
Everything that you made by hand,
Everything that you know by heart,
I will try to connect all the pieces you've left,
I will carry it on, let you forget,
I remember the years, when your mind was still clear,
All the flickering lights,
That filled up this silent house.
One room, two beds,
In the closet hangs, your favourite dress,
The books that you read,
Are in pieces now, the pages are shredded.
Everything that you made by hand,
Everything that you know by heart,
I will try to connect all the pieces you've left,
I will carry it on and let you forget,
I remember the years, when your mind was still clear,
All the laughter and light,
That filled up this silent house.
Everything that you made by hand,
Everything that you learned by heart,
Every name that you can't recall,
I will try to connect all the pieces you've left,
I will carry it on and let you forget,
I remember the years, when your mind was still clear,
And the flickering lights,
That filled up this silent house.
Silent house. Oooh Oooh. Aaahhhhh.
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