| 作词 : Nardi | |
| You've grown into this faceless mask and empty shell | |
| And, like a ghost of your indulgence, you wear them well. | |
| Still haunting something, by your own hand, lost | |
| And you shiver with the chilling sense | |
| You've saved nothing for yourself... | |
| The lies, the games, | |
| Devoid of guilt or shame | |
| Now you resent what you became | |
| And the reality of only you to blame | |
| You wander through each desperate hour and numbered day | |
| And long to hold each wasted moment spent in vain | |
| Still missing something you've slain so wrecklessly | |
| And ignored it through shortsightedness | |
| The thought that someday you might care | |
| The lies, the games, | |
| Devoid of guilt or shame | |
| Now you resent what you became | |
| And the reality of only you to blame | |
| Now you resent what you became | |
| And the reality of only you to blame | |
| You've grown into this faceless mask and empty shell | |
| And, like a ghost of indulgence, you wear them well | |
| Still haunting something, by your own hand, lost | |
| And you shiver with the chilling sense | |
| You've saved nothing... | |
| Nothing for yourself... | |
| Now you resent what you became | |
| And the reality of only you to blame |
| zuo ci : Nardi | |
| You' ve grown into this faceless mask and empty shell | |
| And, like a ghost of your indulgence, you wear them well. | |
| Still haunting something, by your own hand, lost | |
| And you shiver with the chilling sense | |
| You' ve saved nothing for yourself... | |
| The lies, the games, | |
| Devoid of guilt or shame | |
| Now you resent what you became | |
| And the reality of only you to blame | |
| You wander through each desperate hour and numbered day | |
| And long to hold each wasted moment spent in vain | |
| Still missing something you' ve slain so wrecklessly | |
| And ignored it through shortsightedness | |
| The thought that someday you might care | |
| The lies, the games, | |
| Devoid of guilt or shame | |
| Now you resent what you became | |
| And the reality of only you to blame | |
| Now you resent what you became | |
| And the reality of only you to blame | |
| You' ve grown into this faceless mask and empty shell | |
| And, like a ghost of indulgence, you wear them well | |
| Still haunting something, by your own hand, lost | |
| And you shiver with the chilling sense | |
| You' ve saved nothing... | |
| Nothing for yourself... | |
| Now you resent what you became | |
| And the reality of only you to blame |
| zuò cí : Nardi | |
| You' ve grown into this faceless mask and empty shell | |
| And, like a ghost of your indulgence, you wear them well. | |
| Still haunting something, by your own hand, lost | |
| And you shiver with the chilling sense | |
| You' ve saved nothing for yourself... | |
| The lies, the games, | |
| Devoid of guilt or shame | |
| Now you resent what you became | |
| And the reality of only you to blame | |
| You wander through each desperate hour and numbered day | |
| And long to hold each wasted moment spent in vain | |
| Still missing something you' ve slain so wrecklessly | |
| And ignored it through shortsightedness | |
| The thought that someday you might care | |
| The lies, the games, | |
| Devoid of guilt or shame | |
| Now you resent what you became | |
| And the reality of only you to blame | |
| Now you resent what you became | |
| And the reality of only you to blame | |
| You' ve grown into this faceless mask and empty shell | |
| And, like a ghost of indulgence, you wear them well | |
| Still haunting something, by your own hand, lost | |
| And you shiver with the chilling sense | |
| You' ve saved nothing... | |
| Nothing for yourself... | |
| Now you resent what you became | |
| And the reality of only you to blame |