| I wake up and I feel I was stranded
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| In a world that hardly represents me
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| Step by step I collect all my nightmares
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| Like a modern Renoir I’m painting my life away
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| Don’t you think that I’m not gonna worry
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| Don’t you think that I don’t feel sorry
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| Soon I’ll find my way and I’ll let you know
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| Sitting down in my room I feel so empty
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| Staring with lonely eyes at the words I am laying down
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| With cold blood I swallow all the absinthe that you gave me
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| That cold winter night
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| Don’t you think that I’m not gonna worry
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| Don’t you think that I don’t feel sorry
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| Soon I’ll find my way and I’ll let you know
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| I feel a decadent poet
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| Forced to bury his art — forced to bury his own heart
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| Under the mud of a pigsty
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| A cabal of murdered broken hearts
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| Longing for my bitter taste
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| Lost you, I have lost you, brother
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| The strength you hid inside your eyes
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| Makes me believe I can still live my life
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| I learnt from the ashes
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| Of the tears I dropped for all these years
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| My love is now living, is living for real
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| I feel a decadent poet
|
| Forced to bury his art — forced to bury his own heart
|
| Under the mud of a pigsty
|
| A cabal of murdered broken hearts
|
| Longing for my bitter taste |