Tired we listen to the storm, you and I
The howling wind and the beating rain
What does it mean to live
What does it take to linger here
Existence for its own sake
Yet here we remain
Tired we listen to the storm, you and I
The howling wind and the beating rain
Yet the thing we dread in the end is the absence
The absence of sound that follows
How do wе depart from here
Whеn every withering nerve
Demands us to wage this battle
While still able to bleed
Oh where we used to be
The empty stares of distant stars
Witness us
Oh the absence of sound
Which follows
Witness us
Tired we listen to the storm, you and I
The howling wind and the beating rain
Yet the thing we dread in the end
Tired we listen to the storm, you and I
The howling wind and the beating rain
Yet the thing we dread in the end is the absence
The howling wind and the beating rain
What does it mean to live
What does it take to linger here
Existence for its own sake
Yet here we remain
Tired we listen to the storm, you and I
The howling wind and the beating rain
Yet the thing we dread in the end is the absence
The absence of sound that follows
How do wе depart from here
Whеn every withering nerve
Demands us to wage this battle
While still able to bleed
Oh where we used to be
The empty stares of distant stars
Witness us
Oh the absence of sound
Which follows
Witness us
Tired we listen to the storm, you and I
The howling wind and the beating rain
Yet the thing we dread in the end
Tired we listen to the storm, you and I
The howling wind and the beating rain
Yet the thing we dread in the end is the absence
( Hanging Garden )
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