[Music: P. Craddick & D. Ott. Lyrics: P. Craddick]
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A sense of place, a sense of waste, don't know how this can be...
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The silence that envelops me, whispers something, subtly
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Exhale and change the atmosphere
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They've left a trace of their fear...
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How could something like this have happened in a place like this?
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Such mindless violence..
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The surroundings hold their secrets
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How could something like this have happened in a place like this?
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A new day is here, but there's a trace of yesterday
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Here the trees can speak, in voices weak that suggest a tale of pain
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Of tears shed in the pouring rain...
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But at that, they halt their sad refrain
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Look up, at the vault of starts and the calming harvest moon
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A witness to the unspeakable, and easily repeatable
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Cry out to change the atmosphere
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Some kind of presence is here...
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How could something like this have happened in a place like this?
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Such mindless violence..
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The surroundings hold their secrets
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How could something like this have happened in a place like this?
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A new day is here, but there's a trace of yesterday
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Red wine spilled on the carpet - we can clean it up
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Tracks left on the beach that the tides wash away
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Footprints dug deep in the snow - they'll melt away
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But what can wash the stain away from this place?
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A new day is here
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There are traces of yesterday
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This place is stained - what will it take to wash them away
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Traces
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| Enchant |
