Do you hear me still? I'm an echo from the past I could be dream; I could be memory
I still believe this, if nothing else is real I could reach out and touch it, when there's nothing else to feel I could be scarred on the outside but the inside never heals And I believe in nothing for nothing else is real
Turn back the clock now Time is growing old
I still believe this, if nothing else is real I could reach out and touch it, when there's nothing else to feel I could be scarred on the outside but the inside never heals Then I believe in nothing for nothing else is real
Turn back the clock now Time is growing old
So do you feel? I'm a thought to warm or haunt you Or....does the echo fade away......
Turn back the clock now Time is growing old Roll back the seasons, I feel the winter..... I feel cold
Do you hear me still? I'm an echo from the past I could be dream; I could be memory So do you feel? I'm a thought to warm or haunt you Or....does the echo fade away.....