Video Transcription
We are strong, as Cicero's plague with disease
Or a fire, pretending to burn
An air of snow, too many of us dying
But you're still singing Lord, hear my heart
Dreams that are lying dead
We are strong, as Cicero's plague with disease
Or a fire, pretending to burn
An air of snow, too many of us dying
But you're still singing Lord, hear my heart
Dreams that are lying dead