| She dreams of the country
|
| Her eyes go far away.
|
| She wishes for flowers
|
| He says, «perhaps in may.»
|
| The city always was gray
|
| The reflections of his eyes.
|
| And she knows he liked it that way
|
| And that way he shall die, well…
|
| Shes always known,
|
| That there was something more.
|
| Theres this hunger in her belly
|
| Like an instinct it tells her that theres something more.
|
| This living shouldnt be called living
|
| cause its really only half a life.
|
| Shes a flower that grows despite cement holes
|
| And she will survive, she will survive.
|
| Shes a rare breed with violet eyes
|
| And leafy limbs.
|
| In conversations she looks for cracks
|
| To dig her roots deep in.
|
| And her ways come up like daisies,
|
| She pushes her head to the sun.
|
| She says «i am content here to grow
|
| Despite the steel frost that consumes everyone.»
|
| Shes always known,
|
| That there was something more.
|
| Theres this hunger in her belly
|
| Like an instinct it tells her that theres something more.
|
| This living shouldnt be called living
|
| cause its really only half a life.
|
| Shes a flower that grows despite cement holes.
|
| And she will survive, she will survive.
|
| In the end these steel cages will consume us And like coffins ignorance will take us in and
|
| Fashion dont mean anything
|
| cause fashion cannot be our friends.
|
| And when all else fades away
|
| And the city falls into its sleep.
|
| Well still have flesh, blood, bones and
|
| Our soul to deal with so we should
|
| Dig our roots deep.
|
| Always known,
|
| That theres something more.
|
| Theres this hunger in our bellies
|
| Its like an instinct it tells us that theres something more.
|
| This living shouldnt be called living
|
| cause its really only half a life.
|
| Shes a flower that grows despite cement holes.
|
| And we will survive, we will survive, we will survive, we will
|
| Survive. |