Deep-pression - Names | Текст песни

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• Deep-pression
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When whispering their names,
they come to me.
Their voices reverberate,
among four white walls,
in four cold songs...
Here is hell,
where the dreams are born
,but never come true
...I call them,
trying to forget the things,
that even never were!
Trying forget those sad eyes
hidden in long wet hair!

It never happened

All still rest in soil

And all this pain is useless,
as useless are their names,
that dwell white walls,
that dwell dark cells.

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