These rains are like tears, drop by drop.
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Word by word they do not lie, reminding of thunderstorms.
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The body will remain warm, only the soul will get wet.
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I'll fall a little breathing - it's worse than treason.
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Chorus:
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Darling, what have you done? |
Cold tears over the city.
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A wet shirt sticks to the body. |
So cold.
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Darling, what have you done? |
Cold tears over the city.
|
A wet shirt sticks to the body. |
So cold.
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These words are like roses prickling and affectionately lying.
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The heady one is called into the twilight, driving splinters into the body.
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If you leave the morning cold, the day will become unsweet.
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But I'm behind you like a shadow, and you can't fix anything.
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Chorus:
|
Darling, what have you done? |
Cold tears over the city.
|
A wet shirt sticks to the body. |
So cold.
|
Darling, what have you done? |
Cold tears over the city.
|
A wet shirt sticks to the body. |
So cold.
|
Darling, what have you done? |
Cold tears over the city.
|
A wet shirt sticks to the body. |
So cold.
|
Darling, what have you done? |
Cold tears over the city.
|
The shirt is wet, it's cold. |