Do you hear me still? I'm an echo from the past
I could be dream; I could be memory
I still believe this, if nothing else is real
I could reach out and touch it, when there's nothing
else to
feel
I could be scarred on the outside but the inside never
heals
And I believe in nothing for nothing else is real
Turn back the clock now
Time is growing old
I still believe this, if nothing else is real
I could reach out and touch it, when there's nothing
else to
feel
I could be scarred on the outside but the inside never
heals
Then I believe in nothing for nothing else is real
Turn back the clock now
Time is growing old
So do you feel? I'm a thought to warm or haunt you
Or….does the echo fade away……
Turn back the clock now
Time is growing old
Roll back the seasons,
I feel the winter…..
I feel cold
Do you hear me still? I'm an echo from the past
I could be dream; I could be memory
So do you feel? I'm a thought to warm or haunt you
Or….does the echo fade away……