Three of Fates Songtext
von klark sound

Hear the phone, now echoing
I′d rather sleep it off, though deafening to my dreams it be
Seems someone wants to talk
But I am almost dead from words I've left unsaid
Pull me down before I move myself


Every breath I′m older than the last
Every trick of chance I'm losing luck
It seems the grace of age has caught me up
We all must find some solace in our dust

Three of fates, on down the road
I won't even ask them how long my string
Until its end, too questioning of death
Of what I almost am, all up in my head
Pull me down before I move myself

Every breath I′m older than the last
Every trick of chance I′m losing luck
It seems the grace of age has caught me up
The world cannot be overlooked no more