As hours move to minutes and minutes take longer to break, I will be desperately awaiting but my tongue won't fall apart, and we've been sitting here for hours all alone and in the dark.
So let me think of to word it is it too soon to say perfect?
If I could find another thirty minutes somewhere I'm sure everything would find me, all that's left is just to sing.
(Tell me once again that you will love me till the death and should I die, you swear that you will come for me. As I fade away, you reach out your arms...)
Is everyone here make-believe?