Gone
The quiet of this home has such a killing tone
I swear I hear the walls, they whisper and they moan
These aged and dusty shelves still hold your touch so well
These photographs of us and stories that they tell
The creaking of the floors will wake me up, alone
In this dark room I'll find your scent before it's gone
I swear I hear the walls, they whisper and they moan
These aged and dusty shelves still hold your touch so well
These photographs of us and stories that they tell
The creaking of the floors will wake me up, alone
In this dark room I'll find your scent before it's gone
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