Bye, bye, bye
|
Pedal to the ground - I don’t stop, I roll
|
A bottle of absinthe to the bottom, burning to ashes, to ashes, and my ...
|
not weathered not mine
|
Again you try to hide the pupils behind the eyelashes
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So quiet... out of the smoke comes Sandman - I'm stuck
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And I don't dream about you, I don't dream about it, forgetting everything is the only principle
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I don't need it anymore, so you better give it to him
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In the iron head, night and I sleep, hugging the steering wheel
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Throw away these letters, because if there is no spark in the jig, then, then, then there is no fire either.
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The last dose, this splinter is very acute
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Sleep the mind - that's the most effective way, bitch, the only way
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Thin skin, sticky pause, damn, all you can do is go crazy
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Or is it apparently that I have already started, as if after wear and tear, my brain?
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Secrets behind the shell, these cross-stitched fingers
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Behind the back of the hand, but there is no chance, it tears like nails from the boards, it
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Time flows out of the windows, sitting right on the cloud
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Here again, somewhere you shoot into the distance with your eyes-wet binoculars
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Time is no longer a doctor, a killer since that autumn of May
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I'm sleeping, don't wake me up. |
Bitch, save me, I'm suffocating!
|
Bye, bye, bye
|
Pedal to the ground - I don’t stop, I roll
|
A bottle of absinthe to the bottom, burning to ashes, to ashes, and my ...
|
not weathered not mine
|
Bye, bye, bye
|
Pedal to the ground - I don’t stop, I roll
|
A bottle of absinthe to the bottom, burning to ashes, to ashes, and my ...
|
not weathered not mine
|
Everything we've been looking for. |
(Where?)
|
We are all children of the feather in this brew
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Ashes and varnish on the nails, I lost you
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Tell me where you been, bitch, where's your alibi?
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Although you are fake, in memory of times -
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I would never change you for the original
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And now I follow my eyes into the scarlet fog
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These lines fly either to trash or to repeat
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This song is not about love
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And you are no longer on paper, on TV
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There is neither you nor me, the world is unreal
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All this is just an illusion, magic, telekinesis
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All this is magic, telekinesis, I tell you all this without evil
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The beat clouds the head, the head is smoke, but there is no invisible magic
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It's the same slide in my head, the same sound
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Somewhere far away, slow paradise is calling me, woo
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The shores exhaled dust into the sky from this city
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Give me some ground again
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Such a dose is small - pour it all out. |
Zero
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Ice stab wounds hurt
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And don't try - you can't understand me
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Smoke flies out the window… Fly… Sending mayday signals
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Fly up to heaven. |
E, e, e-e-e
|
Bye, bye, bye
|
Pedal to the ground - I don’t stop, I roll
|
A bottle of absinthe to the bottom, burning to ashes, to ashes, and my ...
|
not weathered not mine
|
Bye, bye, bye
|
Pedal to the ground - I don’t stop, I roll
|
A bottle of absinthe to the bottom, burning to ashes, to ashes, and my ...
|
not weathered not mine
|
Bye, bye
|
Pedal to the ground - I don't stop
|
A bottle of absinthe to the bottom, burning to ashes, to ashes, and my ...
|
not weathered not mine |