Thinking of the past I feel my life
Things I knew have gone and those I loved
Is slipping by at such a speed I look for granted and deceived
Call me anything you will
I'll hide behind a purple pill
I'm crying
And though it seems I'm laughing still
Looking from my window I see winter Almost too bare to believe
People change with seasons And I wonder if it's my turn to receive
But they avoid the things I ask
Or quickly change their style of mask
I'm dying
The faith I had is fading fast Is like a businessman
And have bad colours round my head
Seems to me the only way to be
But there's still the problem of what happens when I'm deadGetting drunk to find some peace of mind and consolation.
האתר פועל ברישיון אקו"ם
כל הזכויות שמורות 2022 ©