| I can't fall asleep, I can't go out now
|
| They come to see me before bed
|
| I can't fall asleep, I can't go out now
|
| They come to see me before bed
|
| I have dull eyes, smoke in my mouth, I see souls
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| Ghosts on the streets, their bodies in cars
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| I move the saints in the hanging walls, it is telekinesis
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| I see double, I smoke triple, we bastards like Cripol
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| I go out, I spit blood, I wait for God to hear me
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| They force me to daydream with the light off
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| People still hope, their hands are clasped in prayer
|
| Sputtanano salaries in one evening, children in jail
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| A whole life trying to give their best
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| It's a miracle if you stay awake in the car on Saturday
|
| Babies dead in their wombs and the others live shortly
|
| Every generation hates the one that comes next
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| They have lived for a maximum of half a day
|
| Here, hold your breath or breathe the wrong air
|
| Check, they want freedom, they ask for freedom
|
| They looked for it in an after on Sunday
|
| And every Saturday is a fight on the track
|
| Elbow noses fly at the time of Aramito & Diabolika
|
| How many greetings they raised me
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| And who, greets me from the side like a soldier's slap
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| You haven't changed, no, you're still the fucking failed guy
|
| Sitting comfortably on top of my third finger
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| On that lying smile of a desperate man
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| And however much the voice may scream it does not go beyond the block
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| You don't know who you are and if you did, you forgot it
|
| And you cry at forty with those who remind you of the past
|
| I write verses among the undead in the rem phase
|
| I live self-depressive and requiem notes
|
| If I can't sleep it's because
|
| I'm looking for a perfect song to die for
|
| I write verses among the undead in the rem phase
|
| I live self-depressive and requiem notes
|
| If I can't sleep it's because
|
| I'm looking for a perfect song to die for
|
| We look at the world from darkened windows
|
| And nobody notices us, we drown inside
|
| I hate the system, I hate the scheme
|
| I'm on the fucking skin, no problem
|
| I jump into your head like full blunders
|
| I hate stadium, I hate radios, 105, RTL
|
| I rise in the air and explode among the stars
|
| They tell me hurry up time passes do it so they can hear you
|
| But the point is, where I pass, the clocks slow down
|
| They call me Lebon like Simon
|
| And I've been doing this shit ever since I was in skates and a backpack
|
| Where, an instrument ends my fingers begin
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| One life is not enough to sing what I hear
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| It seems clear to me that you don't understand
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| To hear what I sing, hearing is not enough
|
| I have a song in my head, I have decided
|
| You'll see me die now with a quarter of a smile
|
| I can't fall asleep, I can't go out now
|
| They come to see me before bed
|
| I can't fall asleep, I can't go out now
|
| They come to see me before bed
|
| I write verses among the undead in the rem phase
|
| I live self-depressive and requiem notes
|
| If I can't sleep it's because
|
| I'm looking for a perfect song to die for
|
| I write verses among the undead in the rem phase
|
| I live self-depressive and requiem notes
|
| If I can't sleep it's because
|
| I'm looking for a perfect song to die for
|
| Before sleeping ... before sleeping, before sleeping
|
| A perfect song to die for |