5:45
We stare at broken clocks, the hands don't turn anymore
The days turn into nights, empty hearts and empty places
If only sorrow could build a staircase, or tears could show the way
We would climb our way to Heaven, and bring him home again
The days turn into nights, empty hearts and empty places
If only sorrow could build a staircase, or tears could show the way
We would climb our way to Heaven, and bring him home again