How to make, at the idea
Of opening hands, to bleed
How to make you, forget
You have the marks of the past

On our lips
The world has written
These words of fear and these cries
Its own end is here, oh

How to make us, forget
I don't even have the strength to listen
How to keep quiet, at the idea
Of the bitter taste left

On our lips
The world has written
These words of fear and these cries
Its own end is here, oh

How could I, forgive
To our father, who left
On our lips
The wounds that bind us
These words of fear and these cries
Its own end is here
The world has written

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