Tekstovi: Shot Down Sun. Other. Blame Jules Verne.

In times of tragedy
I cant rely on my own senses
I dont know what to say
Ive never seen death like this before

Now, hold me tight
This could be our last goodbye
And Id trade serenity for just one more day

I blame the man that holds the pen
Because his writing is so sad and tragic
When the paper and ink meet
The words are there for all to see

We are gathered here today
To bury the past we wish to forget
Envious of the writer
Who holds the key that can save our lives?

Is this our last night to hold?
Is this our last cherished memory?
Is this our last?