Текст, перевод и аккорды “Wasted Words”
- There are days when sorrow seems never-ending, Like the countless roads upon which I've driven The price of attachment in pursuit of dreams That I so often can't seem to remember Yet there are days when beauty cannot be contained It even crawls out from under ordinary things A foreigner, No place to go Holding on, Making the most, Of what little time I have All the wasted words I said, In all the cities that I left, The last act of our precious play, Must not close with regret I will not leave wishing I had done things differently The moments I treasure are seldom the ones That I planned for And if I knew where pain hid, I might still let it go, So when the audience has run toward the latest drift, It will be my time to face the life that I have set, A foreigner in my own home, Holding on, No place to go All the wasted words I said, In all the cities that I left, The last act of our precious play, Must not close with regret (regret) All the wasted words Some days the line between peace And pain seem more like blur, But I know with certainty, I can't leave wishing, I cannot leave I can't leave wishing, I'd done things differently
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