There's a grief that can't be spoken. There's a pain goes on and on. Empty chairs at empty tables, now my دوستوں are dead and gone. Here they talked of revolution. Here it was they lit the flame. Here they sang about tomorrow...
and tomorrow never came.
From the میز, جدول in the corner, they could see our world reborn. And they rose with voices ringing, and i can hear them now!
The very words that they have sung, became their last communion. On this lonely barricade at dawn.
Oh my friends, my friends, forgive me. That I live and آپ are gone. There's a grief that can't be spoken. There's a pain goes on!
Phantom faces at the windows. Phantom shadows on the floor!
Empty chairs at empty tables, where my دوستوں will meet no more!
Oh my friends, my friends, don't ask me what your sacrifice was for! Empty chairs at empty tables...where my دوستوں will sing...
no more.