השעות המתות [HaShaot HaMetot] [English translation]

Sunday isn't Sunday anymore

when he's not here it all gets confused for me

in the nights it's too hard to sleep

and in the mornings my head drops

on the floor in the living room

lie my dead hours

all the dead hours

I hide the scratches

I tell everyone I'm fine

but all the time I check messages

when will he finally write me

sweets don't really help either

to fill all the holes that he left

they say it's good for you there

in the mornings at the end of the world

there are sunrises in reverse, the sun rises from the sea

Wednesday Friday Saturday

when he's not here it all contracts for me

I don't look in the mirror

I'm not myself when I miss him

I'll burn all my dead hours in the yard

• Artist:Keren Peles
• Album:Eich She'Hashemesh Tizrach | איך שהשמש תזרח