Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Geluid


Koppel


Moeilijkheidsgraad


Accent



interfacetaal

nl

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie beleid   |   Steun   |   FAQ
1
registreren / inloggen
Lyrkit

doneren

5$

Lyrkit

doneren

10$

Lyrkit

doneren

20$

Lyrkit

En/of steun mij op sociaal gebied. netwerken:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Jonathan Young

Breathe

 

Breathe


Little hands, they grab at something
Someone dearly, looking for control
We come into this being knowing nothing
Screaming, crying, lungs searching for life
The search for purpose almost guaranteed
As we learn survival, inevitably
So what to do with all our quite spells?
Our sanctuary, or our private hell

It's not a thing we see, perhaps a state of being
Or nothing at all

Can we find it with what little time that we have left?
Can we reconcile the wasted days we won't get back?
If life was meant to be together then
Just maybe, not forever, we could stay like this
Could I find it in the middle of a storm of lies?
Could I find it in the iris of another's eyes?
Or should I seize the day?
Ignore the pain, and come what may
The world cannot find my peace

And I begin to feel the expectations drown
As the voices tell me what to value now
My identity can't sift through everything
If I am anything, than I choose nothing
Maybe there's a one who'll let me grow in time
Can a person really live though they will die
I think we need to breathe

The trauma deep inside, it begs the question
All these questions, what now is the goal?
So even though the shadow proves the sunshine
Why must it shine, shine even at all?
Where does thing called dread, come from to leave me dead
Is it my will to survive?
Or does it remind me, that though our future's bleak
I am not the author

It's not a thing we see, perhaps a state of being
Or nothing at all

Can we find it with what little time that we have left?
Can we reconcile the wasted days we won't get back?
If life was meant to be together then
Just maybe, not forever, we could stay like this
Could I find it in the middle of a storm of lies?
Could I find it in the iris of another's eyes?
Or should I seize the day?
Ignore the pain, and come what may
The world cannot find my peace

And I begin to feel the expectations drown
As the voices tell me what to value now
My identity can't sift through everything
If I am anything, than I choose nothing
Maybe there's a one who'll let me grow in time
Can a person really live though they will die
I think we need to breathe

klaar

Heb je alle onbekende woorden uit dit nummer toegevoegd?