| Don’t tell me that you are not really alive
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| Oh how many dreams I’m having in this life
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| Sometimes I see the daylight, but prefer to look
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| Over its whitish borders, going with my eyes
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| Over the memory of it
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| Just a hazy memory, not even so nice
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| She was a completely drunk, was laying on the bed
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| That time I recognized the place surely better
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| Feeling distant even more
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| She went on asking me to hold her tight
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| Her skin was so warm
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| Then I pushed her head on the frozen grass
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| While the first snowflakes were falling down
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| She suddenly turned to me with insane demon-eyes
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| She was feeling hurt and won
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| I let her go away
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| Flat with no warm rooms shone in those
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| Year’s anguish, at night
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| When their mouths had been singing
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| With that voice
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| Their paralyzing voice
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| And when their screams
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| Became my music itself
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| So, where will you take me
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| Once I talk to you?
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| Take me away because it’s too late
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| Now I’m getting better
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| I always laugh
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| Yes, I always laugh |